


Take Your Chances, I'll Take Mine.

by Phanromaniac, Profrock



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Sexuality Crisis
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-14 09:28:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 33,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7165580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Phanromaniac/pseuds/Phanromaniac, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profrock/pseuds/Profrock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dan Hates Phil. Phil Lester, the boy who, frustratingly, got the best marks in the class yet never actually studied. Dan’s hands clenched in anger just thinking about it. Phil Lester, who was always surrounded with friends, despite being part of the chess club, debate team, and practically any other nerdy extracurricular activity you could think of. Everyone, even the stereotypical  'cool kids’  liked, or at least respected him.  Dan definitely didn’t hate him because of the way him, biting his lips, didn’t distracted him. Dan definitely didn’t hate him because of the bubbly feeling he didn’t give him in his stomach, because Dan definitely wasn’t gay.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Profrock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Profrock/gifts).



> *Important* Tell me if I didn’t tag something.
> 
> *Important No. 2* Co-written with @red-lariat who is gr9 and should definitely be looked at 100%.

It was lunch on a Friday, and the regular band of losers were sitting around the ugly, green, unstable, metal cafeteria tables in the ugly, green, unstable metal chairs. The amount of gum probably stuck to the bottom of all of the furniture was enough to make Dan swear off of gum for good. The walls, which were made of disgustingly oversized bricks that ironically were used both in schools and in mental asylums were painted over in white - well, off-white with a hint of Eau de Dirt Smear - paint that was flaking and peeling as if gravity had grown hands and was trying to peel it off itself. The flooring was odd and almost brown - the colour of wet paper towels - with little white specks littering it as if people had decided to make paper snowflakes with teeny tiny cut outs, as opposed to it being a design choice made in 2000. Ah, public schools, the pinnacle of style, class, and high-quality education.

Now this particular band of nerds were talking about a rivalry, and not just any rivalry; the rivalry of Dan and Phil. This conversation was of much annoyance to Dan, as the people involved were literally at the very table he was, expecting him to join in on the conversation.

“I just don’t get where all of this hatred is rooted,” exclaimed Louise, Dan’s best friend, who at the moment was questioning giving her that title. “I just don’t get how you can hate him. It’s not as if he killed your favourite pet ferret or something”

“I don’t have a favourite pet ferret, Louise. I don’t even have a pet ferret,” Dan said, in a harsh, yet amused voice. “I don’t even have a pet.”

“Exactly,” Louise replied with a grin, “therefore making it impossible for him to kill your favourite one.”

Dan groaned at Louise, who merely stifled a laugh at her easily annoyed best friend, thumping him not-so-apologetically on the shoulder.

“Sucks to suck,” Chris shrugged, shoving the lovely flavourless, colourless, powder-made fries, as well as the radioactive pizza further away from him.

He continued: “I don’t think the cafeteria understands that when someone that they’re going to nuke some food, they don’t mean it in the microwave, not with a literal bomb. I mean, most people worry about food poisoning, but no we have to be the ones worrying about radiation waves from our food. I mean look at this,” he said, pointing at the unnaturally shiny pizza, “this pizza is so greasy that I could finger myself after touching it.”

“I’m pretty sure the pizza wants to be left out of your sick and twisted fantasies and so do we,” Dan said, but he didn’t really care. Chris’ designated part of their group was to be the friend who made too many sex jokes despite being a total virgin.

“Well, at least that’s not what your mum said last night,” retorted Chris, with his nose in the air. Dan flipped him off.

“But actually,” Louise said, twirling a strand of her hair around her finger and inspecting the dip-dyed tip. “Why do you hate Phil so much?”

Dan shrugged, slumping back into the chair. “I just do Louise, leave it at that.” He regretted that decision when he heard his spine click against the hard metal, sending a shock of pain up through his body. He winced.

“Mmm.” Louise didn’t look convinced. “Right. Okay.”

Dan stared her down.

“Just admit it, Danny Boy; you have the hots for Phil.” Chris chimed in, smirking deviously.

“Chris, how many times have we been over this, I am not fucking gay,” Dan replied, voice devoid of emotion.

“Your words say one thing, but your eyes in the changing room say another,” Chris replied smoothly with one eyebrow cocked, still trying to get a rise out of Dan. The sad part was that no matter how aware of this fact Dan was, he couldn’t stop himself from getting riled up.

“Just shut up for fucks sake,” he said, unintended desperation filling his voice, “I said that I’m not so just drop it”

This elicited a laugh from Chris, who wasn’t quite satisfied yet. Then, putting on the most serious face he could muster at that moment he said, “Alright, but know,” he said, putting his hand sarcastically on Dan’s, “we’re always here for you, and we’ll wai-”

He couldn’t even get through his shtick before Dan retracted his hand so fast that he ended up hitting himself in the face and groaning. Chris fell back in laughter, falling off the chair, and stayed hiccupping on the floor for a while before calming himself down enough to pick himself up.

“Karma is real and always protects the good,” Dan said, all previous venom from his voice gone and replaced with wry humor.

“That was the side effect of leaning back too far and an underfunded education system,” Chris retorted, “not some cosmic force that binds existence, you philosophical moron.”

“I mean you say that but I your entire life is a series of unfortunate events, starting from the broken condom,” Dan replied smoothly, “Hey, Lou?” He said turning his focus to Louise.

“Yeah?” Louise said, looking up from the book she had been reading whilst her two best friends were bickering.

“Did they tell your Geo class the sleeping arrangements for the Geo trip?” Louise nodded, turning the page. “Yeah. Dr. Stanley told us when we had class last period, why?”

Dan shrugged, lazily pulling a fry through the glob of anemic ketchup adorning his plate. “Just wondering, because we didn’t yet.”

“Cool.” Louise mumbled, obviously not paying any more attention. Chris snickered, kicking Dan’s shin under the table. “Why do you wanna know? Hoping to get roomed with Lester, loverboy?” Dan threw a fry at his head, flipping Chris off when he giggled and ducked.

“Well I need something to get my mind off the fact that you just tried to play footsies with me. You know, just because I can’t see your leg under the table, doesn’t mean I can’t feel it, and sorry bro, but even if I swung that way, it would not be for you.”

Chris pretended to clutch his pearls, swooning back. “Whatever shall I do?” he asked in a falsetto, laying his hand across his forehead and leaning into Louise’s shoulder, fanning himself. Louise shrugged him off, but Dan saw the corners of her lips twitch up in a grin. “Oh Romeo, why dost not thou love me?”

“Your virginity breeds mites, much like a cheese,” Dan responded in a posh accent, sniffing and turning away. Chris and Louise cracked up.

“Well, my good sir, it would not be so, had you not rejected me.” Chris replied, still in his ‘lady voice”

“Your brain is as dry as the remainder biscuit after voyage,” Dan replied haughtily, crossing his arms and leaning forward. Oh, it was so on.

“My brain is overused, my dearest lord, but for all the love I give you, you are the one, the one to occupy this barren mind,” Chris said, placing his hand to his forehead, and melodramatically looking away.

“Dan, I’m sorry, but I’ve got to give Chris this one,” Louise said with a laugh. Dan’s mouth dropped as Chris fist pumped. “No fair! I used actual Shakespeare, and this is how you repay me?”

“You found those all on a website.” Chris stuck out his tongue. “Whereas I’m a performer,” he exclaimed, returning to his melodramatic role, and taking a bow.

Dan looked hurt. “When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,” he began, his voice dropping with the theatrics. I all alone beweep my outcast state, and trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries, and look upon myself and curse my fate. Wishing me like to one more rich in hope, featured like him, like him with friends possess’d. Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope, with what I most enjoy contented least. Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising, haply I think on thee, and then my state Like to the lark at break of day arising, from sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate. For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings that then I scorn to change my state with kings.” Dan’s voice reverberated, pitching with emotion, despite the fact that his face stayed mostly blank. Louise stared at him in awe.

“You bet’cha my loving is sweet,” Chris replied with a wink.

Dan glared at him, raising a fist. “How dare you soil Sonnet 29, you godless heathen.”

“Hey, it’s what you get for being a total nerd.” Chris stuck his tongue out, leaning back in his chair so he was balanced on the back two legs, his knee propping him against the table. Dan pushed him back with his foot, grinning when Chris hit the floor with a dull thud and exclamations of pain.

“That’s what you get for being a total douche canoe,” Dan noted with a gleeful smirk.

“Listen, just because you’re sexually repressed, doesn’t mean we all have to suffer,” Chris said, popping his head up over the lip of the table to glare at Dan.

“I am not, I’m just - ugh you’re annoying, ” Dan said, throwing up his hands.

“Right,” Louise sarcastically drew out the ‘I’ for about four seconds, glaring pointedly at Dan. Dan flipped them both off, settling back in his seat.

“I hate you both.”

The bell rang, startling the three friends, despite having heard the exact same noise a thousand and one times since the beginning of the school year. Chris bounced out of his seat, stretching his arms above his head and sighing when he heard his back crack. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and stuck one elbow out for Louise to take, which she did, eye roll and a groan. “M’lady,” Chris said, doffing an imaginary fedora. Louise punched him in the shoulder. “If you say that one more time, I swear to god…” She let the threat hang in the air, and Dan laughed.

“Come on. We have to go. I’ll see you two after Geo, yeah?”

Chris saluted Dan. Dan rolled his eyes. “Fucking nerd.”

“Look who’s talking,” Chris retaliated with a smile.

“Ladies, ladies, please, can we do this some other time?” Louise asked, pulling Chris towards the art wing of the building, away from Dan.

“Just give me a place, time, and dress code,” Chris said with a saucy wink.

Louise groaned. “I swear I can never take you anywhere…”

Dan lost their voices as the crush of students swept him along, depositing him less-than-gracefully at the door to the Geology room. He sloped over to his seat and slumped into it, burying his head in his arm and dropping his bag at his feet. Geo was probably his least-favorite subject if he was being honest. It was easy enough, sure, and a little bit boring, but that wasn’t why Dan hated the class so much. It was one of the few classes he shared with Phil fucking Lester.

Phil Lester, the boy who, frustratingly, got the best marks in the class yet never actually studied. Dan’s hands clenched in anger just thinking about it. Phil Lester, who was always surrounded by friends, despite being part of the chess club, debate team, and practically any other nerdy extracurricular activity you could think of. Everyone, even the stereotypical ‘cool kids’ liked, or at least respected him.

Dan had mostly none of that. His little group of friends was entirely on the outside of the rest of the social scene, orbiting in an entirely different galaxy than Phil Lester. He got by mostly unnoticed, unseen, and unheard- asides from the infamous rivalry with Phil. Except by his teachers. Because Dan, well, sucked, at just about every subject.

Though a compelling reason, that wasn’t exactly Dan’s entire reasoning behind hating Phil. If he really thought about it, Dan couldn’t even pinpoint exactly why. Maybe it was how he always participated in class with either the correct answer or a brilliant, original idea he just happened to pull out of his ass when the teacher was talking, or maybe it was because of his boisterous laugh that managed to make any conversation more enjoyable, or his smile that lit up an entire room. No, Dan wasn’t sure at all why he felt such resentment to the droll goof who always had a funny story of how he fucked up that weekend, but that doesn’t mean he didn’t, and that he wouldn’t act on in at any given opportunity.

The worst part is that the professor had sat them next to each other, so in other words, the reason Dan hated Geography class so much is not because it was a class he shared with Phil, as there were other classes he shared with Phil, but rather that he was always paired up with him. Not that that made them talk anymore, no, their conversation would usually consist of Phil saying ‘hey,’ Dan being an ass, and then Phil saying ‘fuck it, and you, you can work on your own, then’ and returning to his work only to get a mark that was usually roughly about 25% above Dan’s own. That was how Dan, no matter how easy Geography was, continued to bring back Cs every term. Definitely not because he was distracted by the way Phil bit his lip when he was thinking hard, or the way his eyes crinkled at the edges when he laughed so hard he threw his head back. Definitely not.

And as all the times before, Phil greeted Dan, with the same positive energy he does with others, “Hey, Dan.”

Dan decided that he wasn’t going to be a dick with words today, seeing as he was tired from lunch and getting his ass handed to him by Chris, so he just glared.

“Ah, as friendly as always, I see.” Phil responded, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

Rolling his eyes, Dan said, “As annoying as ever, I see.”

“You know it,” Phil exclaimed, making finger guns at Dan and winking. Dan tried swallowing the flustered feeling in his stomach that the wink gave him. He decided that he would not even acknowledge it to himself.

“Not in the mood, Phil,” Dan stated coldly.

“Are you ever? Because I’ve yet to see a version of you who doesn’t act like he has all the creatures from Pandora’s Box up his ass,” Phil smirked.

“Whatever, the class is starting and unlike you, some of us actually have to work for our marks,” Phil’s expression turned cold, and he waved his hand dismissively, putting his phone out of his pocket and holding it so it was hidden from the teacher’s view, under the table- not that he had to, the teacher wouldn’t comment because oh how he participates even with multiple distractions.

“Sorry, I actually have talent and intelligence,” he bit back without looking up at Dan, his eyes instead glued to his twitter feed. Dan’s throat tightened and he faced forward, stick-straight.

“Doesn’t mean you have to be an ass about it.” Dan hissed.

“What, and you do?” Phil said, snapping at Dan, before sighing and turning back to face his phone.

The teacher, Mr. Dunwhel, started his lesson on immigration and emigration factors, and different countries views on immigrants. Mr. Dunwhel, turning to Phil, asked: “Why might countries, such as Canada or Sweden, want immigrants, and, in fact, go as far as laxing their immigration laws so to attract more people to their country?”

Phil, without even looking up from his phone, simply replied with, “Countries that exhibit this eagerness for new people realize that they aren’t procreating enough to keep their population numbers up, and with it, they have a huge number of Baby Boomers entering the retirement, threatening to drastically lower the employment rate, considering that they need a lot more people out of the dependency load, taking in people from other countries that possess some form of skill really serves them well, given their situation.”

“Thank you, Mr. Lester,” Mr. Dunwhel beamed, nodding and promptly continued teaching the class, failing to notice a fuming, red-faced Dan, who was bitterly chewing his pencil eraser to a pulp.

“Can you not do that,” Phil muttered, “It’s disgusting.”

Dan, still being upset with Phil decided to continue, but not as he had before, no, instead of just doing it as he did before he started sucking on it entirely, thinking that it would disgust him further. Instead, to Dan’s dismay, he laughed.

“Is that how you suck dick, Dan, because I must say, I’m impressed,” Phil said, on the verge of laughter.

“I don’t suck dick, we all know that you’re the bisexual here,” Dan sneered.

“And what a shame that is,” Phil continued, seeing how much it annoyed Dan, “because, damn, Dan, I don’t think I’ve ever been jealous of a pencil before.”

Dan groaned. “Why do you use your vocal chords, you pestilent swine.”

“To show you what you do to me,” Phil moaned sarcastically, tossing a wink to Dan.

Dan, being embarrassed enough for one day, definitely didn’t want to deal with the tent forming in his jeans. He took the precaution of carefully pulling his jacket onto his lap, just slowly enough to keep Phil from noticing. Random. It was completely random. Dan did not want to admit to anything but puberty, whooping his ass.

“Do you ever hear yourself speak? Like for a second do you stop ‘wow I’m being annoying, and should stop!’” Dan questioned.

“For others? Yes, but I don’t think you realise that I’m trying to annoy you because you always act like a prick to me without any reason, so I figure, hey, I get a free pass, as the only one in the school you hate.” Phil replied smoothly.

“Well you don’t,” Dan spat bitterly.

“I don’t think you get to decide,” Phil stated matter-of-factly.

“Dan, Phil,” Mr. Dunwhel bellowed, “I hate to bring you out of your fascinating conversation, but please pay attention in class. Anyways, as I was saying, this geography trip is a four-day trip going to London to study the use of land, such as commercial, residential etcetera. To actually go on this trip, you must hand in the permission slip, as well as the £80. We, the teachers, will be assigning rooms, where you will be sharing a room with one to four people, depending on your room size and the number of be-”

The bell interrupted Mr. Dunwhel, prompting the class to get up. “Remember to get your forms in by next Friday, as we leave the following Monday. Sleeping arrangements and the bus seating plan will be announced morning of, and a phone call from your parents is not enough for this trip,”he belted over the rustling of rucksacks, and the murmuring of students unenthusiastically making their way out the door and to their next class. Dan barged past Phil on his way out the door, totally accidentally slamming into Phil hard, with his shoulder. Phil snorted, shaking his head. Dan’s shoulder throbbed dully.

Dan trudged through the hallway on his way to maths, a class he shared with his two best friends, desperately trying to make the redness in his cheeks subside. He definitely did not want to explain anything to Louise and Chris, especially Chris. Sadly, his attempts came to no avail as it was the first thing Chris noticed.

“Hey, Dan,” said Chris, not expecting anything of it. 

Dan swallowed, still trying to lessen the effects of Phil Lester on his cheeks.

“Do you have a boner to match the blush you’re sporting?” Chris asked with a smirk.

Flustered, Dan shot Chris a glare, followed by a snarky, “Chris, for god’s sake, do you always have to think about Phil and I having sex? I mean, I get that I’m great wanking material but you don’t need to tell me about it, that’s weird.”

“No, wanking off to yourself, now that is weird,” Chris smoothly retorted, laughing at Dan’s expression.

“That is not what I meant, and you know it,” Dan guffawed, joining Chris.

“So, how was geography class, anyway,” Chris questioned smugly. “Did you get paired with your fuck-buddy?”

“No,” Dan said, a little too quickly. Clearing his throat, he covered up with a partially convincing, “No, we didn’t get our sleeping arrangements yet, we get ours the morning of because our Geo teacher doesn’t care to do it beforehand.”

“Ah, Mr. Dunwhel, living up to the beautiful reputation of a public school teacher,” Chris sarcastically stated, dragging out the ‘E’ in ‘Beautiful.’ 

The bell rang just as Louise walked into the classroom and sat next to Chris and Dan. She greeted them and started to talk about some drama that happened in the girls bathroom, but was interrupted by their math teacher, Mrs. Honey. Sadly, their math teacher was nothing like the fabled Ms. Honey from Matilda, neither in looks, nor in charming personality. She had the personality of a stone and the looks of a shaved bear. She and Chris also had a mutual hate-hate relationship, in which she was an ass to him and he was an ass right back. More often than not, it ended up with detention for Chris and endless amusement for the rest of the class. She was also a just about certifiably crazy little old lady, and Dan was convinced she was either a witch or a demon if the wart on her nose and extreme dislike for anyone under the age of sixty-five was any indication. 

Class started with little fanfare, Ms. Honey’s thin, rasping voice just beginning right from where the class left off the last class, with something about angles. Thirty minutes into the class she was explaining exterior angles incorrectly, and as if on cue, Chris’s hand shot up. 

“Miss, exterior angles aren’t the full angle outside of the shape, otherwise, it wouldn’t equal to 360°. An equilateral triangle on its own would have 900°.”

Staring at him scornfully, she turned to her notebook and scribbled some things down to see if what Chris had said was true. Looking back up at the class, she bitterly admitted what Chris said had been correct. She continued to talk in an attempt to continue the lesson, but Chris would have none of it.

“Miss, shouldn’t you know math to become a math teacher?” Chris asked sweetly, feigning innocence. Dan and Louise giggled slightly at the hideously unattractive shade of purple Ms. Honey’s face was turning. “Five minutes till she snaps, tops,” Louise whispered. “Ten quid says you’re on,” Dan retorted. They shook on it under the table. Chris, being the great pestilent swine that he is, then made it his personal mission to break his record of two minutes and thirty-six seconds until Ms. Honey threw him out. Dan wondered why in the name of all things holy they were still friends, but to be honest this was probably one of the reasons. 

Dan and Louise knew the drill, they took out their phones and started timing, watching in amusement at the many hues appearing on Ms. Honey’s face, and there were a lot. Throwing every acceptable bash at his teacher that came to mind, Chris had the whole class laughing. The timer on Dan’s phone had just reached the two-minute mark when Chris was asked to leave. He would later ask his friends for the exact time, but at the moment he packed up his things with a grin, all but skipping out of class. Ms. Honey was just about breathless, clearing her throat as her complexion began to return to a color closer to curdled milk, as opposed to tomato red.

“Now, if anyone else has a problem with my teaching methods, you can join him in the hallway,” she said, acting as if she had won the Battle of Troy. No one said anything as they were still trying to refrain from laughing. One kid snorted. The girl next to him coughed to cover it up. “That’s what I thought,” she exclaimed, breaking the silence with her shrill voice, and her ironically victorious face. The following 40 minutes left Dan and Louise entirely bored, and for the last half hour of class they decided to have a contest with who could flick little finger-footballs the further across the room - Louise won, hitting Ms. Honey’s desk with one. The bell rang and all of the students spilled into the hallways laughing and talking, and Chris hauled himself up from where he was sat on the floor, leaning against the wall, bouncing over to Dan and Louise with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Two minutes and fourteen seconds,” Dan grumbled before Chris could even open his mouth to say anything. Chris waggled his eyebrows, doing a stupid little dance move. “If I shave off another minute it’ll be just a bit longer than you last in bed, Dan,” he said with a smirk. Dan rolled his eyes. 

“Fuck off. You cost me a tenner, by the way, I hope you’re happy.” He fished his wallet out of his backpack, forking the bill over to Louise reluctantly.

“You should know better than to bet against Chris at annoying people, by this point,” Louise said with a giggle, sliding the bill into her pocket. Dan threw up his hands. 

“You’re right Louise, I should never doubt his ability to annoy people, for he himself, is just the physical manifestation of annoyance, here to fuck up our lives.”

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.” Chris joked, winking. Dan rolled his eyes. 

“You absolute dad, oh my god.”

“I mean if that’s what you’re in to..” Chris trailed off with a seductive smirk. Dan rolled his eyes to the high heavens. 

“At god, why me?” he groaned. Louise giggled.

“It’s just because I hate you, nothing personal,” Chris said, patting Dan on the shoulder. Dan groaned even louder and buried his face in his hands.

“I would tell you how much that hurt once I remember how it feels to have emotions flow through my cold, dead veins,” Dan said with a straight face. Louise snorted.

“Wow, suffering from blue balls, I see,” Chris stifled a giggle, “must suck, Dan, truly.”

“Doesn’t suck as much as your mum did last night,” Dan shot back, his voice muffled slightly since his head was in his hands. Chris punched him in the shoulder.

“And you still couldn’t get it up? What a shame,” Chris sarcastically said.

“Okay, you know what -” Dan started, beginning to get legitimately annoyed. Chris held his hands up. A peace offering.

“I am the true master of annoyance, your forfeit was to be expected,” he joked with a soft smile. Dan tried to smile back, but he suspected he looked more in pain than anything else.

“Fair enough,” Dan sighed, scrubbing a hand through his hair. “But I’m not sure how much of a hashtag life goal being the master of annoyance is.”

“It is all of the life goals, young grasshopper,” Chris said, throwing an arm around Dan’s shoulder and leading him towards the door.

Dan and Chris waved goodbye to Louise as soon as they walked through the door into the warm, spring air, watching as she climbed into her dad’s car and drove off. Dan turned to the east, Chris still attached to him. Dan glanced over. 

“You coming back to mine?”

Chris smiled hugely, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, my dad’s back in town and I -” “You’re coming back to mine.” Dan cut him off with a decisive nod. He didn’t miss the subtle sigh of relief Chris let out.

They didn’t even get two steps until Dan saw Phil coming out of the school, the slight breeze blowing his hair back across his forehead in the sexy, I-don’t-care-how-I-look-but-I-know-I-look-good kind of way, his teeth shining in the light as he threw his head back in laughter at something one of his friends had seen. Dan unconsciously grit his teeth, shrugging Chris’ arms off of his shoulder. Chris took the hint and let go, glancing around in confusion. He followed Dan’s glare to Phil, glancing between the boys and smirking.

“Oi, Phil!” Chris yelled, waving both of his arms above his head for good measure. Phil looked up and Dan ducked down, trying to hide his burning cheeks behind his hair.

“Chris what the fuck,” Dan hissed, trying to pull Chris away. Chris wasn’t having it and just smiled wider when Phil noticed him and tipped a confused half-wave back. His eyes tripped down Chris, eventually settling on the blushing boy standing behind him, and Phil’s lips turned up in a huge smile at the potential chance to embarrass Dan. No way was he going to pass that up.

At least, that was what was going through his head as he bounced over to Chis, tossing quick goodbyes over his shoulder to his friends.

“Hey, Chris. Hey, sunburnt tomato, how goes things?” Phil asked smoothly. Dan blushed harder.

“Oh man do I love you,” Chris remarked, “your grip of annoyance on Dan so strong that it’s hard for me to compete.”

Phil laughed in that stupidly attractive way, tossing his head back and scrunching his face up and Dan wanted to skin him alive. He settled for clenching his fists and looking away. He refused to acknowledge how much his hands were trembling. 

“Love you too, Chris,” Phil said, slightly breathy from the way he was laughing and if Dan closed his eyes he could imagine those words were being said to him, fond and - no.

Dan was not gay. He could not be. He just simply couldn’t be. He had no qualms with other people being gay or anything, but he simply wasn’t. He might not be able to get off to lesbian porn, but that proves nothing. 

Noticing that Dan zoned out, Chris could think of no better thing than to do than to tease him, “Dan, I know that Phil is attractive, but honestly, you need to stop eye fucking him in school,” he sneered. Dan went even redder - his cheeks were crossing into purple territory - and he glanced up to glare at Chris so fast he was surprised he didn’t get whiplash.

“Fuck off,” he said, unable to muster up the biting sarcasm he so desperately wanted. His voice wavered in the middle, and he had to blink back the tears of frustration that were brewing behind his eyelids

Raising his hands in defeat, Chris exasperatingly said. “Fine. Fine, I’ll stop, for now.”

Dan sighed in relief 

“I make no such promises, Cherry,” Phil snickered, winking. Dan swung wide, desperate eyes his way. Phil’s smirk stayed sharp, but his eyes softened, just a degree.

“And this is why I love you,” Chris laughed. Dan could feel his throat constrict, a sure sign of tears to come.

“Chris, please,” Dan said. He despised how vulnerable he sounded, how weak his voice was.

“Ooh, he begs,” Phil jeered. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Tears were blurring Dan’s vision, and he scrubbed his hand across his eyes vigorously. 

Turning this pang of hurt into anger, Dan decided to up the ante. If Phil wanted to play like this, fine they could play.

“He also cries for his daddy, if the price is right, ” he said, smirking when he saw both Chris and Phil choke on their tongues. 

“And, pray tell, what might the esteemed price be?” Phil said sarcastically, with a wink, recovering quickly. Chris was startled into laughter by both Dan’s statement and Phil’s smooth reply.

“Judging by your trainers,” Dan said, pointing down to Phil’s worn out running shoes, “more than you can afford.”

Phil’s eyes quickly went from smiling to ice-cold. “Oh right, and I hear Yeezy’s are going for about three grand nowadays? Oh, shame, I’ll have to miss out while you go back to your real sugar daddy. Sorry, I don’t do sloppy seconds”

“Beggars can’t be choosers, and with that face, neither can you.” Dan was practically spitting by this point, gradually stepping closer and closer to Phil.

Noticing how Phil’s demeanor completely changed, Chris tapped Dan on the shoulder, giving him a look as if urging him to stop, but Dan was having none of it.

“Oh, you want me to stop because he might get offended, but you just keep throwing punches when I’m down.” Dan was livid by this point, desperate to snap and hit and hurt.

“Dan, I - “ Phil started. Dan whirled on him, not letting him finish his sentence

“One more word and I will snap your neck, you prick. Chris, we’re leaving.” Dan spun on his heel as he left for the bus stop. Chris tossed Phil an apologetic look, scurrying quickly after Dan. The last time he had been this mad, things had not gone well, to say the least.

Phil was still standing in the exact same place when the clouds came rolling in a half hour later. He finally found it within himself to move once the wind picked up, blowing right through his skin. He wrapped his arms around himself and began the long trudge home, watching the toes of his beat-up shoes as they slapped the pavement in front of him. Left, right, left, right, left, right…


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The bus ride takes an interesting turn.

All the students of the trip were groggily making their way to the school in the dark of the morning. Dan made his way to where Geography class, hoping to be grouped with anyone but Phil. Even just thinking about spending the next five days with that asshole made him grit his teeth in anger, and set a burning sensation aflare in his chest. Upon arriving, Dan, as well as the other students, shed their coats, appreciating the small amount of warmth that the class’s radiator was giving off.

Mr. Dunwhel was the only one who appeared to be in some semblance of a good mood, taking delight in what Dan assumed was the suffering of his students.

“Welcome. Welcome. I will take the fact that you all showed up here at six as a sign that you know we’re going on a field trip,” he said jovially, eliciting a synchronized groan from the class. “Right, well it’s time for me to tell you your groups.”

Dan didn’t even bother lifting his head from its place in his arms on the desk. His eyes tugged shut, but he forced them open, immediately and not intentionally meeting Phil’s eyes. Phil half-smiled at him, tipping a nod. Dan let his eyes drift back closed. He could hear Phil’s scoff from the chair next to him, and the mutter of a barely audible, but nonetheless passive aggressive, “okay then.” Dan clenched his teeth.

Mr. Dunwhel began rattling off names in groups of three. It wasn’t until the end of the list where he said, “We have one group of two, due to hotel bookings and number of students. Dan, Phil, you’ll be sharing a room.” Throughout the entire class, you could hear a pin drop. For a few seconds, that is, until the class spontaneously burst out laughing. Dan turned beet red, and Phil, who had been fighting to stay completely silent to that point, stifled a laugh in his sleeve, in order to preserve whatever was left of Dan’s precious ego.

Dan just wanted to punch something. What had he ever done? Why did the universe hate him? Would he be just put in juvie or would he be tried as an adult if he murdered Phil in his sleep? So many questions buzzed around in his skull, and he repeatedly hit his head on the desk to clear them out.

“I would tell you to stop or else you’ll damage your brain, but I’m not sure you have any brain cells to lose,” Phil sniped from beside him, and Dan whirled on him, seething.

“Just because you -”

“Ah, boys,” Mr. Dunwhel interrupted Dan’s little tirade, and Dan glanced sullenly away. “I see you two are already next to each other; that will make this easy.” His face turned serious, and Dan braced himself for whatever storm was about to come. “Dan, I put you with Phil because I need you to pick up your semester grade. Philip here knows a lot, and will be a great resource for you if you decide you want to get serious about your grades, “he stated quietly so that only Dan could hear.

“But I am serious abo-” Dan began, his voice rising in volume and pitch with how frustrated he was becoming.

“This isn’t an attack, Dan; I’m just trying to give you a push in the right direction. Besides, how could putting you with a student who has tutored and succeeded at teaching others to be a bad thing?”

Dan sullenly nodded and said a quick and quiet, “yes, sir,” sinking back into his seat as he did so.

“Glad we had this chat, Dan,” Mr. Dunwhel said, walking back to the front of the room. Dan muttered profanities at the teacher’s back as he walked away, earning a snort from Phil.

“What? What is it? ‘Av you got something to say, you nerd?” Dan snapped, slipping into a slurred, challenging accent.

Attempting, but failing to suppress his laughter, Phil chortled, “nothing, nothing at all,” his voice getting higher towards the end of the sentence as he tried to choke back his chuckles. Dan scowled, snarling slightly at Phil.

“Oh, I’m so scared of the big bad wolf,” Phil mocked in falsetto, fluttering his eyelashes and raising his hand to his heart. Dan wanted to strangle him. No one should have eyes so pretty, yet still, be such an asshole. And a dude, Dan’s brain reminded him. Dan banged his head against the table again.

For the third time that day, Phil had had to refrain from bursting out laughing when he said, “Shit, Dan. Are you okay?”

“Feck ‘uf” Dan slurred, still recovering from the impact. Phil snorted.

“What, so you’re Irish now?” To which Dan responded by holding up his middle finger, his left hand rubbing the location of a soon-to-be bruise on his forehead.

“Wow, even in a time of great pain, you can’t fake niceties.”

“It’s your fault!” Dan hastily said in retort.

“How? How could it possibly be my fault?”

Dan froze for a few seconds, only to weakly continue with, “Just - I don’t know. Shut up.” Dan deflated into his seat, and Phil stopped pressing it. Dan looked like he was on the verge of tears.

“Hey, Dan?” Phil asked, softening his voice completely and lightly putting an arm on his back, “are you okay?”

Dan was desperately trying to find a twinge of sarcasm in his voice so that he could stop the warm and fuzzy feeling he felt at that moment, but he couldn’t, his mind was full and racing until he realized he had to answer.

“Just fuck off, okay?” He said into his hands.

Phil did.

The class made their way to the school bus, where Mr. Dunwhel counted off people into pairs within their groups, leaving Dan and Phil sitting next to each other for the whole seven-hour bus ride. Oh, joy.

Dan shoved in front of Phil to get the window seat, earning a scoff and patronizing eye roll from said boy. Phil slid into the middle of the bench-like seat, closer to Dan than he was to the aisle edge of the seat. Dan shot him a death glare. Phil calmly met his eyes.

“Back the fuck up, yeah? Don’t need you on my dick literally was well as metaphorically.”

Phil snorted, a subtle “you wish” sneaking out on his next exhale, but he obliged and scooted to perch on the edge of the east, striking up a conversation with someone across the aisle. Dan paid him no mind, pulling up his hood, jamming his earbud into his ears and leaning his head against the window. A few clear droplets splattered against the glass, and Dan just closed his eyes. Of course, it would start raining. What a lovely autumn day. Of fucking course. 

The guy who was talking to Phil turned to watch a movie on their DVD player with the person sitting next to him, this caused a bit of frustration in Phil, who wanted someone to talk to. He wasn’t unfamiliar to the feeling of being left out, no matter how social he seemed. No matter how many people talked to him during school, he never had any after school plans, leading to long nights watching science and political videos on YouTube and playing video games.

In desperation to distract him from his spiraling thoughts, he turned to Dan, who had been struggling to keep calm, as he had forgotten his migraine medication. He was tapping along to his music, his fingers playing out the drum lines on his knee. The repetitive motion did a little to help with his one anxiety, but not a whole lot. He grimaced as the bus ran over a wide crack in the asphalt, causing the coach to jostle heavily and unexpectedly. He winced as his head smacked against the window and he accidentally bit his tongue. Today was just not Dan’s day.

“Hey, Dan?” Dan just shuffled further away, nuzzling into the cold glass of the window, whilst slightly groaning in response. “Please, Dan.”

Groaning, Dan asked, “What do you want?”

“Nothing, I guess. I just-”

“Then what the hell are you bothering me for?”

In a barely audible voice, Phil choked out a small, “I’m sorry, then.” Dan tried not to hear how fragile he sounded, but he couldn’t ignore it. He yanked out one earbud, turning to look at a distraught Phil.

“Sorry, I’m just a bit stressed,” Dan said softly, earning a surprised look from Phil, “I left my migraine medication at home, and, man, does it suck ass.”

“Oh.” Phil was silent, fidgeting with his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

Dan waved a hand dismissively, before bringing it up to rub at his eyes. “S’okay. Not your fault.” Phil cracked half a smile at that.

“Are you sure? You seem convinced everything is.”

Dan huffed a begrudging smile. His head felt as if it was being filled with needles through his eye sockets, run through a blender and dunked in boiling oil all at once.

“Hey, I don’t know if it would help, but I have some extra-strength Advil,” Phil suggested in response to seeing Dan cringe through the pain. Though he would never admit it out loud, Phil kind of liked Dan like this, not in pain, but rather, just being somewhat pleasant towards him. The pounding in his head was taking up all the energy Dan would have been using to insult Phil.

“Actually, yeah, that’d be great,” Dan sighed in slight relief, “but if you don’t mind me asking, why do you have them?”

“Oh, my mum is essentially a walking pharmacy, she wouldn’t let me leave without at least a first aid kit,” Phil chuckled. Dan tried to stop thinking about the way that Phil’s chuckles made the butterflies in his stomach appear.

“Hey, it’s better than forgetting your doctor-prescribed medication,” Dan chimed back, as Phil pulled a small, clear, blue, plastic, makeup bag filled with pills and other medication, “nice bag,” he chuckled

“Thanks, it’s couture,” Phil chuckled, handing Dan the bottle of Advil to a now-giggling Dan, who was internally scolding himself for producing such girly sounds. After he took the Advil he caught Phil looking at him with a fond expression in his eyes.

“You good there?” Dan asked with a tilted eyebrow, washing down the two small blue tablets with a swig from his water bottle. He kind of half-wished he had had half the balls to fill it with liquor. Phil jumped slightly, startled before he glanced away with a sheepish expression. The pounding in Dan’s head was receding, becoming more of a background annoyance than a pressing pain. It was making him irritable.

Phil shrugged, fiddling with the loose strings decorating the cuffs of his sweatshirt. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good? Why?”

Dan shrugged back, handing back the bottle with a mumbled thanks. He crossed his legs, shifting around to lean back against the window, this time with his jacket shoved between his skill and the glass. “You were looking at me weird.”

Phil’s responding giggle was forced. “Was I? Sorry.” He bit his tongue from snapping out a snarky comeback. He really didn’t want to alienate Dan any further. As Dan continued to look at him with confusing he continued with, “how dare I look at you wrong, behead me now, my liege,” in a joking tone.

Dan snorted. “If anything I’m a lord, I mean come on.”

Phil’s chuckled, but less forced this time. “My immediate apologies, sir, should I fetch the guillotine?”

“Um, excuse you, it’s my lord, and no, I rather think I shall hang you instead,” Dan said in a fake-snobbish accent. Which, if Phil was being honest, wasn’t much difference from his regular one.

“Hey look, your posh accent works with it!”

“I do not have a posh accent, shut up.” Dan’s words were biting but his tone was playful, and his eyes were soft. Phil liked Dan’s eyes, he realized, when they were warmer than hot chocolate during winter and sparkling like a gold ring on a summer’s day.

“Never,” Phil exclaimed, booping Dan’s nose. Dan scrunched up his face, and Phil had to actively stop himself from cooing.

“Hey, look, gayboy Lester found himself a boyfriend,” said one of the students sitting behind them.

Dan’s blinked once, and when he opened his eyes again they were darker than coal and twice as hard. He looked dangerous. Phil shrank back instinctively. 

“Wow, how offensive; a gay joke. Man, a-fucking-plus on creativity. Do you actually think that anyone cares, or would at all be affecte-” Phil stopped himself when he saw Dan’s expression, and how he was in a muttering spiral of ‘I’m not gay’ and ‘he’s not my boyfriend. We’re not- we couldn’t be.’ After taking a gulp, Phil continued. “I mean just because I’m bi doesn’t mean that I like everyone. For example you, you look repugnantly disgusting. I don’t even know how you have a girlfriend, much less a, what’s the word for it? A side ho?”

“Which one? Julie or your mum?”

Slightly standing up, as much as the seat would allow, Phil started, “Ladies and gentlemen, I would like to inform you that we have a genius among us,” he said, reaching over to grab and lift up the hand of Tommy, the kid who clearly started it, “Tommy, my dear friend, has just learned how to use a ‘your mum’ joke, please welcome my friend into the twenty-first century.” He dropped Tommy’s hand and clapped, smirking as claps and giggles swarmed through the back of the bus. He could see other kids turning their heads to see what was going on. Phil sneered. “Bi tip #104: If you don’t want your ass handed to you, don’t act like a dick.”

Tommy muttered something Phil couldn’t quite catch, and Phil almost stuck his tongue out. “With the amount of ass you’ve been eating, I’m surprised you’re not better with your tongue.” To a flurry of giggles, Phil sat down, returning to see if Dan okay.

Dan shrugged off the hand Phil put on his shoulder, and Phil’s heart dropped a little bit. “Dan? You okay?”

“I’m not- I can’t- we’re not” Dan panicked.

“Of course not, one thinks you are,Tommy’s just an asshole, like his last meal.” Dan cracked a tiny smile at that, and Phil pressed on. “ He’s just a closet case, I bet. That’s now it is with most, people, the ones who are the most actively homophobic are the ones who are really just denying that they’re gay themselves, kind of like the most innocent looking ones are probably the kinkiest.”

Dan narrowed his eyes. “Are you saying I’m secretly a closet case?” All of the colours drained from Phil’s face as he thought back over his words, stumbling over himself to apologize.

Rushing his words, Phil started rambling, “no, I mean you’ve never made fun of me talking to a guy in a negative way, you’re fine, you’re-” in the closet. Phil thought, finally pausing for a breath, his brain just catching up with his mouth. “Listen, I just- man, how am I supposed to answer that without you doubting me or you getting pissed?” Dan shrugged, then shook his head, then opened his mouth, clearly exasperated. He made a few sounds as if he were going to start talking. He closed his mouth again.

“Listen, just- I’m sorry, okay?” Phil offered, wary of upsetting Dan further. Dan snorted, turning around to face the window. Phil just about threw up his hands.

“Fuck off,” Dan mumbled

As Dan was putting his earphones in again, Phil muttered, “Good job, Phil, you did it again,” returning to his spiraling, self-pitying, self-loathing, thoughts. He slumped backwards, his expression unusually downcast compared to his normal, sunny disposition.

“And stop it with that face,” Dan said, staring at Phil’s reflection in the poorly illuminated window, starting to sound like the normal, furious, short kid that Phil and grown accustomed to.

Phil couldn’t even muster up the energy for a comeback, settling for staring forlornly out the window across the aisle. He could hear Dan tapping the beats of the songs on his thigh. Phil sighed. Dan muttered something under his breath.

“What?” Phil asked, more out of habit than anything else.

“Fucking chick in a rom-com,” Dan mumbled again, and Phil’s ears tinged pink.

“What does that make you, then?”

“Shut up.”

Some part of Phil really wanted to let it go. The tiny, rational, niggling part of his brain begged him to let it go, let it roll like water off a duck’s back. But, as usual, that part of his brain lost by a landslide.

“Get. Fucked. At least let go some of your pent-up emotions.”

“Why don’t you release-”

“I’d love too, what’cha say, after dinner?”

“Eat a dick,” Dan muttered, cranking up the volume and turning back towards the window, yet somehow still hearing Phil’s next words.

“I’d love too, what’cha say, after dinner?” Phil said again, in the exact same tone.

“You’re such an asshole, maybe that’s why no one likes you.”

Biting his lip, Phil snapped, “wow! How original! I have never heard that one before! Good job, Dan! How many inches did that add to your penis?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Yeah, sure for future reference, to know what to expect, you know?” Phil’s smirk was simpering and superior. Dan wanted to grind his face into gravel.

“Stop saying things like that.” Dan was getting really done with Phil’s antics.

Bringing his voice down, Phil quietly, jokingly moaned, “Like what, baby? How you would love to have me fuck you, grind into you as you-”

“Shut. Up.”

“Writhe underneath me-”

“Shut. Up.”

“-and call me daddy-”

“I said shut-”

Getting uncomfortably close to Dan’s ear, so much so that Dan could feel him breathing, Phil whispered, “I heard you, but bad boys don’t get what they want.”

Dan whimpered. He fucking _whimpered_. Obviously, he was sick, because he would never, he could never, be attracted to Phil Lester. Or any guy for that matter. Dan Howell was straight. Is straight. So, why then, is there a little tent forming in his pants.

No, it wasn’t brought up because of attraction, it was just another random erection that he just happens to always get when he’s looking at guys. See? He could not be gay, he could not be an outsider, he would never go back to how he was before middle school. He couldn’t go back to having no friends, not that Chris or Louise would ever leave him for something that frivolous; Chris being pansexual himself and Louise not giving a shit, but understand, that at that moment, it felt like the secret to end all secrets to Dan.

“Oh wow, did I manage to turn on ‘Hetero Howell?’”

“No! It’s just-”

“Yeah, yeah, hormones, I’ve heard the story before. I’ve told it before, too.”

“We’re not the same.”

In a saddening voice, the words, “You’re right,” tumbled from Phil’s lips, unexpected by either of the boys, “people can stand you.”

Before Dan could even ask Phil what he meant, and tell him to stop acting like one of those poorly constructed, sad, mysterious anime characters, Phil had turned around, using his surprising empty backpack as a pillow, but not before he took out the first-aid-makeup-bag and softly mumbled, “Knowing my mum there might even be some over-the-counter medication for your migraines in there, too.”

“Why are you making nice? Do you think that I can’t handle myself?”

“You can, you can’t, who gives a fuck anymore? You know, I argue a lot, but it’s always in a jokey tone, and honestly, I’d much rather make nice.”

“Well, too bad.” Dan stubbornly stated, crossing his arms like child throwing a tantrum

“How mature,” Phil replied, with a worn out and tired voice, keeping his apathetic look as he turned back to his backpack pillow, and put his earphones in his ears, Dan doing the same.

After about a while Dan heard an alert coming from his phone:

_10% battery left._

Oh, shit. He was supposed to text his mum when he got there. They hadn’t made it through two hours of the bus ride. He mentally kicked himself, wondering when he’ll start to remember charge his phone at night.

With a reluctant sigh, Dan took his earbuds out from his ears, wrapping them carefully around the body of his phone and sliding the machine into his pocket. He shuffled around, internally cringing when his knee brushed Phil’s, before his managed to find a comfortable position with his back to Phil and his forehead pressed against the cool glass of the window. The bus ran over a pothole and Dan grunted, slamming his head into the window. He sighed, closing his eyes as pain flared up in his skull, as a combined result of the headache and the impact.

A tap to his thigh startled Dan of his self-pitying reverie, and he jumped, whipping his head around to look at Phil. Phil wasn’t looking at him, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular. His outstretched hand held something: an earbud.

Dan glanced up at Phil’s carefully impassive face. He narrowed his eyes, flicking his glance from Phil’s proffered hand to his eye to the small, light blue, Sony MP3 player. Eventually, after a few careful, tense moments of consideration, Dan accepted. He shuffled closer, careful not to touch any part of Phil’s body, He slid the earbud into his song, not recognizing the song.

It was clear that the song had only recently started, and it seemed to be a normal love song until he started actually listening to the lyrics.

_Your secret is safe, I won’t say a word._

Dan tried to make sense of it, having skipped the most of the first verse.

_I can read the signal from a mile away, I know she’s on your mind and that’s okay._

Dan froze up a bit as the song got to the chorus.

_I think she likes girls every time she flaunts, You wanna get real and tell me, what you want. I think she likes girls._

He looked up at Phil. Phil’s eyes were closed, and he was mouthing along. If he noticed Dan staring at him, he didn’t react.

_She wants to kiss her lips but she’s scared of getting caught, I think she likes girls._

Dan was dumbfounded. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He leaned back into the hard seat, unsure of what to do with his hands. His head was spinning.

Phil’s lips quirked up into a minuscule grin as the song ended and the dramatic bass line that signaled Uprising began. Dan was slightly startled at such a quick change of pace, from a gay song to one of his favorites, but he met Phil’s eyes, smiling a little bit. Phil’s grin was bright enough to light up the dark side of the moon.

Their music taste wasn’t all that different, apart from the few gay songs and the shitty and/or weird-ass ones from the 00’st, Dan realized as he handed Phil’s earbud back with a silent nod, gathering his things in preparation to leave them bus. There was some rock, some punk, some a mix of the two, with a handful of pop, a sprinkle of metal and one or two nightcore songs that Phil always skipped with a blush. The rain had cleared, or at least they had driven far enough away from it, and outside was warm and sunny and just the right amount of windy. Phil groaned as he stretched his arms behind his back, sighing as joints he didn’t even knew he had, popped in relief, causing Dan to stare at Phil’s chest. 

This lasted for a good few seconds before Phil chuckled, raising his eyebrow at Dan, who, in response, broke into a coughing fit.

“You okay there?” Phil asked, bemused. Dan nodded hastily, quickly scurrying off to presumably find Chris and Louise. Phil got in line for the bathroom, rolling his shoulders back and cracking his knuckles. It felt so good to stand after being stuck in in the uncomfortable bus seats for so long.

“How was it?” Chris asked, jabbing his inhumanly sharp elbows lightly into Dan’s ribs.

“Don’t start with me,” Dan snapped, his good mood evaporating almost instantly.

“So you got lucky then?” Chris’ eyebrows were wiggling faster than an electrified snake, and Dan crossed his arms defensively.

“Dude,” Louise said, tugging on Chris’ shoulder. “Leave off him, already.”

“Fine, but this will make me even worse of a human being for the rest of the day to the rest of the people, spending all of my good deeds and morality in one place.” Louise gave Chris a look. Dan recognized it as the ‘dude-for-fucks-sake-take-this-seriously-for-once-in-your-life’ face. Dan tossed a grateful smile to Louise, who nodded in return. Chris threw up his hands, huffing a sigh.

“Alright, fine.”

“Thank you.” Louise nodded once. Dan thought she’d be a good mother someday. Hell, she already was, with the amount she had to parent Dan and Chris when they acted like five-year-old siblings. Dan sighed, moving to sit on the short stone wall that separated the parking lot from the expanse of the forest behind the rest stop. Why couldn’t he have fallen in love with Louise instead? It would have made everything so much easier. But he hadn’t and somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he wouldn’t.

Phil bounced up to where their group was conglomerated at the stone wall. Dan didn’t miss the longing eye Phil cast towards the vending machine.

Louise didn’t either if the way she smiled sympathetically and fished in her bag for her wallet, bringing out a single, crisp bill was any indication. Phil’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped, his gaze flickering between the bill and Louise’s face.

“Are you sure?” He asked, his tone betraying some of his obvious excitement. Louise nodded.

“Yeah, of course. Come on. Take it.”

Phil accepted with an unsure, excited hand, bringing Louise into a hug. Louise laughed, hugging back. She didn’t miss the way that Phil held on for an extra second as she pulled away, only to realise and let go, standing awkwardly and apologizing. “Um… Sorry about that I just don’t usually- and I just was- Um I’m… Sorry.”

Louise’s eyes were soft. “It’s okay, she said quietly. Phil nodded, still not meeting anyone’s eyes as he shambles off onwards the colourful line of machines.

“What was that about?” Dan and Chris asked simultaneously. Louise just shrugged, looking after Phil’s retreating form for a little while longer before turning back to the two other boys.

“Nothing,” she said, in the quiet air of finality that indicated no further questions would be answered. The three fell silent, the only sounds surrounding them being the chatter coming from near the busses, and the quiet hum of insects.

“So, awkward silences are great,but is there a topic here that isn’t taboo?”

“Sure, how about you and Liguori?” Dan snapped, still angry at Chris for all of the teasing surrounding him and Phil.

“That hot piece of ass? Man if he wasn’t straighter than you claim to be, let me tell you I would-”

“Okay, I regret asking now,” Dan said, grossed out, “we don’t need to know all of your sexual fantasies, I’m still traumatized from the last time.”

“Hey, you asked.”

“I mean, to be fair, Dan, you did,” Louise pointed out.

“Oh, great, now you’re on his side too?” Dan sighed.

“I am impartial. Merely here for the spectacle of your banter.”

“So in other words, you hate me,” Dan huffed. “Do you not remember last time, with the vivid descriptions of-”

“Nope, that’s my job,” Chris exclaimed. “Well, both the hating you and the vivid descriptions, and I can make more,”

“What a lucky, lucky boy I am,” Dan grumbled bitterly.

“Yeah, you are.” Chris winked, lightly hitting Dan’s ass, causing him to jump and hit him.

Phil chose that moment to walk back up, popping a blue M&M into his mouth. “Who are we assuring and why?” He asked, chewing. Dan whipped around to glare at him, his hands splayed protectively over his ass.

“Chris started it,” Dan complained, “he hit my ass and then-”

“Like this? Phil asked, tapping Dan’s bum with his free hand. Dan jumped again, but he didn’t hit Phil back, he just looked down and blushes. Chris gagged.

“And that was even harder than I did it, come on, Dan, keep it in your pants,” Chris scoffed. “And you complain about my ‘vivid descriptions.”

“Shut up,” Dan snapped, red still decorating his cheeks. Phil munched down another handful of M&M’s.

“Those words seem to be your entire vocabulary,” Phil stated. “That and ‘I’m not gay.”

“Fuck off,” Dan muttered.

“I made a mistake, you know those words too,” Phil quipped back, his tone still light.

“Why must you be so persistent with your existing? Couldn’t you just, I don’t know, not, for a little while?”

“I could, but then I wouldn’t be able to annoy you,” Phil said softly and sarcastically, grabbing Dan’s chin, “and we wouldn’t want that, now, would we?” Dan brain kind of shorted out, and he mumbled a ‘no?’ before he even really knew what he was saying.

“Thought so,” Phil said, letting go of Dan’s face and patting his cheek as he withdrew his hand, not harshly but not terribly lightly either.

“Sorry to break up this moment, but what the actual fuck is going on?” Chris asked, bemused, watching the two boy’s interaction. “I mean it’s like you want me to make fun of you.”

Dan blushed but scoffed, shaking his head to try and clear it. “Yeah, right.”

“Ten out of ten on the comebacks, Danny boy,” Phil snorted, tossing back another few candies. Dan glared at him, his cheeks burning with what he hoped was the wrath of a thousand suns but was really complete and total embarrassment.

The airhorn sounded, startling all four of them into the air. They trudged back to the bus, Dan all but sprinting while the rest strolled leisurely.

“Phil?” Chris said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

“Yeah?” Phil turned his head.

“Just- just be gentle with him, yeah?”

Phil wasn’t sure he entirely understood, but he nodded anyways, waving to Chris and Louise as they turned right towards their bus, and Phil kept straight until he reached his. Dan was already sat in the window seat, his head resting against the glass and his eyes closed.

Be gentle with him. Chris’ words swam in Phil’s mind, and he wondered what they meant. He doubted Chris was referring to being gentle with Dan physically; Chris punched Dan more often than he spoke to him, albeit lightly.

He shrugged it off, turning to poke Dan in the knee and offer an earbud as the engine started up, making Dan’s head vibrate against the glass of the window. Dan accepted with a soft smile, unconsciously scooting towards Phil. Phil held his breath as their knees touched, by Dan didn’t move away so neither did he.

A song resembling ‘Bad Day’ came on. Phil’s eyes widened, quickly skipping the song. This caused Dan to look at him strangely, “Why’d you skip it?”

“Uh… No reason… I just… I didn’t think that you’d-?” Phil paused, though the statement was sounding a bit more like a question.

“If it’s nothing, then play it.”

“Are you sure?” Phil meekly asked, earning a glare from Dan, “Okay, okay, fine, I’ll do it.” Phil uttered, rubbing his thumb over the back button twice, hearing the beeps each time, “but remember, you asked for it.”

Dan smiled, thinking he had won, though his smile quickly disappeared when he heard the song start, “Where is a fat cock when you need it the most,” Dan almost choked on his spit, eliciting a laugh from Phil.

“I told you, now, are you sure you don’t want me to just play the next one?” Phil asked, stifling his laughter.

Dan was determined, determined to not show weakness, determined to make himself seem straight to himself, and others. “NO! I mean, no, you don’t need to, I mean.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay, enjoy the ride, my friend.” Phil chuckled, turning up the volume of the song.  


  
“Cause you know that you’re gay, you wanna suck cock. You say that you’re straight but we know that you’re not.”  
Dan ground his teeth, determined not to lash out. And the worst part was, Phil has tried to skip the song, so Dan knew it wasn’t anything malicious. Still, it grated on his nerves.  
The song ended and Dan breathed a sigh of relief. Which was very short-lived, as he jumped as soon as the next song started up.  
“Dude.” He swung wide eyes towards Phil. Phil cracked one eye open.  
  
“Yeah?”  
“I know you’ve suffered, but I don’t want you to hide…” Dan sang along quietly, grinning maniacally the whole time. Phil says up from where he had been slouched against the back of the seat, joining in.  
“It’s cold and loveless but I won’t let you be denied,” both boys sang quietly. Dan wiggled a little bit in pure excitement, and Phil could have cried with how cute it was.  
“This is my favorite song,” Dan confessed excitedly, right over Phil saying “this is my favorite song, by far.” They stared at each other for a long moment, before Phil’s face broke into a wide grin.  
“See, Howell. Why aren’t we friends?”  
Dan snorted, sitting back and turning his head away to hide the blush creeping into his cheeks.  
  
“I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart,” Phil hummed, trying to catch Dan’s eye. Dan wouldn’t look at him.  
“It’s not like that,” he said, almost too quiet for Phil to hear. He cleared his throat, speaking a little bit louder. “You can’t just go up to someone and say ‘hi, you like Muse, I like Muse, let’s be friends.’ That’s just not- it’s just not how it works.”  
“Why not?” Phil almost asked, but he bit his tongue.  
  
“I want to exorcise the seasons from your past…”  
“Okay,” Phil said, sitting back. “Okay.”  
The rest of the car ride passed with no other noticeable events. Dan let Phil skip the next song, that started with ‘it’s my fantasy, I’m the bubble god,’ with no comment. He assumed it would be for the best.  
Before long, both boys had fallen asleep, Dan against the window and Phil against Dan, which is not that much of a surprise considering  
that they were two teenagers who woke up at six in the morning.  
The sun shining through Dan’s eyelids woke him up calmly, only to notice that Phil leaning against him, and music still playing. How, Dan thought, how is it physically possible that his small, shitty MP3 from 2006 has a longer battery life than his new phone. Then, Dan, had it sink in, that Phil _fucking_ Lester was using him as a pillow. What would others think? The little dweeb, Tommy, had already joked about them being boyfriends when they were just talking, who knows the conclusions that could be drawn from that.  
Freaking out and needing a distraction, Dan turned to his phone, hoping for a new upload from someone who he’s subscribed to, a viral video, or even a huge economy destroying event to take his mind on things, but sadly, Dan knew the upload schedule of all of the YouTubers he liked, and an economy tanking already happened once this month, but he couldn’t really focus on Brexit for that long without becoming furious.  
Instead of any of that, he noticed a text from Chris. The text literally just said Cute. Dan was going to kill him, but before that he was going to test if he was talking about what he was thinking about.  
_Thanks, I try. What is it, this time, I need to remember to never do it again._  
The three bubbles that signaled Chris was typing popped up immediately and Dan settled back, careful not to disturb Phil. 

  
_One attachment Image_


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit gets the fuck sad im sorry i was listening to 2012 by kathrine and eden

That fucker.

Dan just about threw his phone. Chris had managed to get a photo of him and Phil, sleeping on each other. It couldn’t have been taken more than half an hour ago. 

_How the everloving fuck did you get that?_

_I wanted to talk to pj and he sits at the back of the bus_

_And?_

_And i walked by and thought you two looked 10/10 adorable_

_You little-_ Dan started typing when Chris sent another message. 

_He’s still sleeping on you, isn’t he_

_No. Dan typed in, a little too quickly._

_Don’t lie to me I can literally see you rn_

Dan turned around to see Chris still sitting beside PJ, offering a small smile and sarcastic finger wave, though PJ seemed to be preoccupied with whatever he was saying and didn’t notice him. 

Dan’s phone beeped again

_Are you gonna wake him up or nah_

Dan decided to ignore both Chris’ antics and how everywhere Phil touched was tingling, but sadly neither of those succeeded as Chris stood up, approaching Dan, and in the process, woke up Phil.

In a dazed state of confusion, Phil mumbled something indecipherable, then snapped into reality and shot off of Dan’s shoulder, bumping into Chris, then groaning as he rubbed his head.

“Morning, sunshine,” Chris chucked.

In a dazed, yet equally sarcastic voice that was husky from sleep, Phil replied, “hey, moonshine. Wait, no. That’s alcohol.”

“Considering his personality I wouldn’t put it past him to be on it,” Dan muttered, glaring daggers at Chris from under his fringe. Chris just reached over and patted his cheek with a shit-eating grin, squeezing himself onto the tiny bus bench. Dan ended up squished against the cold glass of the window, with Phil practically in his lap. Which, if the simpering smirk Chris was wearing was anything to go by, was Chris’ plan all along.

“Trouble in paradise?” Chris asked with a laugh, and Dan wanted to hit him.

“I was having a good day Chris, why did you single-handedly have to ruin it?”

“You mean all you need to constitute a good day is to have a boy literally drool on you while you’re crammed onto a bus that smells like feet and whatever is growing between the folds of your mum’s vagina for six hours straight?” He turned to look at Phil, who blushed and wiped at the corner of his mouth. “Keep this in mind when you’re planning dates, it seems loverboy is a lot easier than we expected.”

“I will literally murder you in your sleep,” Dan griped, trying to shuffle around so his back was to Chris, or at least as much as he was able to considering the space restraints.

Phil shifted around once Dan was still. He was still slightly groggy with sleep, and ended up draped even more across Dan’s lap, with one arm over Dan’s shoulder and the other flopped in Dan’s lap. He snuffled in a way that made Dan’s heart constrict with how cute it was, and he leaned his cheek against Dan’s shoulder, his eyelids fluttering closed. Chris’ eyebrows were bouncing up and down faster than a hooker who’s paid by the john rather than by the hour.

“You’d have to move him to do that, so I figure I’m safe for the rest of the bus ride.”

“I’ve been told I can shoot daggers from my eyes.”

“You’ve found my weakness, pretty eyes and small knives.” Chris puckered his lips and fluttered his eyelashes. Dan gagged.

“You did _not_ just pull a Spiderman on me.”

“Can you stop knowing all of my references.”

“We saw that movie _together_.”

“Oh.” 

Dan snorted, then looked down and frowned, lifting Phil’s hand with two fingers and pushing it off his lap. Phil, who Dan couldn’t quite tell if he was asleep of just fucking with him, immediately put it back, closer to Dan’s crotch this time. Dan’s frown deepened, and he shoved Phil off, hard. Phil’s eyes crinkled and he made a noise, flopping down so his head was on Dan’s lap. Fuck, this was even worse.

“We could fry a fucking egg on your face, it’s so hot,” Chris laughed, noticing Dan’s red cheeks.

“Thanks Chris, never knew you thought to highly of my beauty, and also, well, he kind of…” Dan started pointing down, blushing harder. Chris almost broke out laughing when he saw what Phil’s face was pressed up against.

“Hey, Phil.” Chris whisper-yelled close to him, “If you get your mouth any closer to Dan’s dick you guys’ll have to drop the whole ‘enemies’ act,”

This seemed to wake Phil up immediately, at least to some degree, having him quickly, yet groggily, sit up from Dan’s lap.

A crack resounded through Dan’s skull as searing pain shot through his face, and he yelped, grabbing at his nose. He felt something wet on his fingertips, and he pulled them back to see. Blood. Fan-fucking-tastic.

“Dan? What are you- oh.” Phil’s eyes were wide and he was wide awake, rubbing the back of his head with one had. “Did- shit, did I do that?”

Dan nodded as best as he could without splattering blood everywhere, keeping on hand cupped under his nose to catch the steady stream of blood trickling out. It dripped down his lips, hot and salty and metallic-tasting.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Phil whispered, fluttering his hands as he looked around. He looked legitimately freaked out.

“It’s fine, Phil,” Dan found himself hissing. He made a face as opening his mouth let more blood drip onto his tongue. “Do you just, have any tissues or anything?”

“Walking pharmacy, let me check.” He dug through his backpack with trembling hands, eventually procuring a pack of travel tissues. He ripped open the packet, handling the entire wad over to Dan.

“I liked this shirt,” Dan said mournfully as he pressed the paper wad to his nose, sighing as he noticed the drops that had landed on his white shirt.

“It’s white so you could probably bleach it,” Phil said, though the way his pithed raised towards the end of the sentence made it sound like a question.

“It has a design on it, Phil, It doesn’t work like that, Jesus.” 

“Well, I mean, you could have woken me up and I wouldn’t have hit you. Also, why didn’t you wake me up, Howell? I mean it’s like you wanted m-”

“Ice,” Chris said. Both of the other boys turned to look at him in confusion. “What?” Chris shrugged. “Ice will get the blood out. I watch a lot of cop dramas.”

Both of them stayed silent until Phil said, “Alright, well that’s one problem solved,”

“If it doesn’t dry first.” Dan snarled

“You know what? They mass produce those shirts you should be fine. Stop acting like a prick.” 

“ _I’m_ acting like a prick? _Me_? You’re the one that hit me in the nose and made me bleed on my favourite shirt!”

“I was an _accident_! And why the fuck are you wearing your favourite shirt? What part of your brain thought it was a logical idea to go on a six hour bus ride wearing something that you like?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, blame me! Never take any responsibility for anything!”

“Says the MVP of blaming everyone else for everything!”

“Wow, you really are a five year old!”

“What does that make you, then? A pedofile? Checking me out when I’m literally just stretching.”

Dan stared at Phil for a few seconds.

Second of Dan’s silence passed, and Phil had had enough of it, “can you not think of anything to say back? Do you need more time to form more brain cells? You know what? Just tap me on the shoulder when you think of a comeback.

“You’re an asshole,” Dan snarled.

Phil’s face, not breaking from the emotionless mask it had taken, “I think you could use a little more time.”

“Oh, did my insult not meet Mr. ‘I correct the teachers’’ standards? You want to talk to me about being annoying? When was the last time you had after-school plans?” Dan said, taking a shot in the dark, having picked up on Phil’s behaviour earlier. That had been a surprise to him, though, seeing as at school he was constantly surrounded by people laughing at his jokes.

“At least I’ve accepted and can be honest with myself, but you must tell me, being that far in the closet, have you reached narnia yet? I’m genuinely curious.”

“Is that your only valuable insult? That you think I’m in denial and gay?”

“No, I also think your intelligence is lacking. You know, with not being able to get a 70% to save your life?”

“Getting good marks isn’t everything.”

“That’s what people who don’t have good marks say. Well, them, and teachers who feel sorry for them.”

“And you wonder why you’re alone.”

“I don’t. I know I’m an annoying piece of shit who makes even more annoying jokes, but those are my redeeming qualities so what am I to do?”

“I really don’t know, my condolences.”

“Like you’re any better. I don’t know if you notice but I’m nothing but pleasant towards you until you start acting like an asshole dick monger.”

“Asshole dick monger? Is that another gay joke?’

“Ohhhhhh, my god!” Phil groaned in annoyance, “do you ever just, I don’t know, relax a bit? Like, ever? I mean for at least one day can you remove the entire cast of The Little Mermaid from your ass?”

“Why should I? When you’re just going to be a pestilent dick, I should be able to act however I feel fit.”

“Not when I never start it.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, Phil Lester; the fucking kindergartener.”

“Dan Howell; the pedo who practically drools over what he himself calls a kindergartener.”

“Ladies, please,” Chris cut in. Dan snarled, his nose practically touching Phil’s with how in each other’s faces they were. “Dan, calm the fuck down. Phil, also calm the fuck down. You guys were actually being nice to each other for twelve seconds, what happened.”

“Nice,” Dan scoffed, and Phil rolled his eyes. “Says Captain Bellend.”

“Prick.”

“Tosser.”

“Asshole.”

“Cunt.”

“Alright, alright.” Chris wrestled Phil back, shooting a dirty glare to the handful of people who had turned to stare. “I am not above locking you two in a closet until you either makeup or make out, okay, chill your fucking tits.”

“He started it,” Phil grumbled childishly, making Dan’s mouth fall open in exasperation.

“Well I’m fucking ending it,” Chris snarled, and Dan scoffed.

“Alright mum, Jesus. Since when have you cared that we get along? If I remember correctly, you were one of the people egging us on three days ago.”

“Again, Dan, I’m not above the closet.” The idea of being trapped in a dark, confined space for an indeterminate amount of time with Phil crossed Dan’s mind, and he immediately shut up.

“I’m going to go back to PJ, okay, try not to murder each other while I’m gone.” Chris stood up, walking back to the back of the bus. Dan watched him go. Phil didn’t move into the vacated seat.

“Get the fuck off me,” Dan snapped.

“Whatever,” Phil said with an eye roll, yet still he complied, sliding to the side of the seat.

Dan stared out the window, frowning at the bloodstain on his shirt reflected in the rain-streaked window. The shadows in the clouds looked a little bit like the exhalation of smoke from a cigarette across the dimly-lit morning sky. He chewed at his fingernail, drawing his legs underneath him until he was sat cross-legged.

Something tapped Dan’s knee and he turned, met with a pale hand extending an earbud. Phil’s gaze was determinedly fixed ahead of him. Dan accepted the offering, scooting closer and sliding the earbud into his ear.

The song was halfway done when Dan started listening, but he got the general gist:

_I’m sorry for the things_

_That turned out this way_

_I wish I knew the words_

_I needed to say_

_‘Cause you and me, we never seem_

_To see eye to eye_

_But I’m sure that we can get along_

_If we try_

Phil’s iPod died when they were thirty minutes away from their destination. Neither of them took the earbud out. Dan scooted a little bit closer. Somehow, the silence was just as comfortable, if not more so.

They got out of the bus and stood in front of run-down exterior of the hotel they’d be staying in, getting in line for roll call before getting keys to the room they were staying in. The hotel, though not impressive on the inside, was not nearly as bad as the exterior lead them to believe.

Heaving their bags to the top floor and all the way at the end of the hallway, the room that had been assigned to them, they almost collapsed from exhaustion when they opened the door. 

“Home sweet fucking home,” Dan snarked blithely, throwing his backpack onto the bed closest to the door. 

“Your excitement is all but tangible,” Phil deadpanned back. Dan snorted into his pillow, from where he had launched himself face-first onto the bed he had claimed as his own. Phil opened the closet door, taking in their surroundings. The room was fine. It was big enough, the decorations sparse and cheap-looking. There was a bible in the top bedside drawer, and Phil considered throwing it at Dan with some snide comment. He eventually decided against it, but kept it in the back of his mind, just in case. He gingerly set his duffel back on top of the chest of drawers in the closet, moving over to sit on the remaining free bed. Dan hadn’t moved an inch.

“Can you plug in my phone?” Dan asked, holding up the machine. “Charger’s in the front pocket.”

“I don’t know about your maid situation at home, but I’m not one,” Phil bit, kicking off his shoes and laying back on his bed with his hands behind his head. “Would you like me to shine your shoes with my tongue next, master?” 

Dan snorted, hauling himself up to deal with his dead phone. Something small and heavy hit his shoulder, followed by something long and thin that landed on top of his head.

“Can you plug in my phone for me?” Phil asked sweetly, batting his eyelashes.

Dan was surprised his teeth didn’t crack with how hard he was clenching his jaw. Phil watched Dan’s face get progressively redder with a small twinge of smug satisfaction.

“Fuck you,” Dan snarled, but he plugged it in regardless.

“Maybe later,” Phil said with a yawn, laying back down. His eyes slipped shut as Dan moved around the space, opening all the drawers and looking at everything.

Someone knocked on the door. Dan cocked his eyebrow, confused as to who it could be, but opened the door nonetheless. 

“What is up, my bitches,” Chris said, bouncing into the room. “Oh, good, you’re both decent, I was worried I might have to perform a self-lobotomy to remove the images of bumfucking that would forever be etched into my retinas.”

Dan, not finding that even remotely amusing, monotonously mumbled, “haha, we’re all dying of laughter, you comedic genius. Wait, what happened to the Chris who wanted to watch?”

“Burned up on reentry.”

“Reentry of what, your head into your own ass?”

“My cock into your mum.”

In annoyance to Dan, Phil just laughed. Dan shot him a dirty glare over his shoulder. “Don’t encourage him, he was suggesting that we were going to fuck just now.”

“Yeah, but I knew we weren’t because,” Phil’s eyes raked obviously over Dan’s body, “gross.” Dan felt an undefinable pang of negative emotion in his chest, and a small amount of prickling in his eyes, at Phil’s words.

Insisting to himself that it was just anger, anger because he was called unattractive, and this anger fueled him to act. If irrationally, then. So. Be. It. “Oh, shut up, you bi slut, you would take me in a heartbeat.”

“I wouldn’t, but,” Phil paused, as if considering something, “was that an invitation?”

“You fucking wish,” Dan snarled, and his eyes narrowed.

“If Phil doesn’t I do.” Chris interjected, trying to slightly diffuse the situation before Dan was too affected, albeit unsuccessfully, as the next words out of Dan’s mouth were:

“You were supposed to be on my side,” and though Dan had attempted to say it in a jokey tone, Chris could hear his voice cracking, though it slipped past Phil’s ears unnoticed.

“Hey, Dan, can you come to the washroom with me?”

“What are we? Chicks?”

Chris didn’t even respond vocally, but rather, just glared at Dan until he heaved a reluctant sigh and hauled himself up, trailing after Chris into the bathroom like a dog with it’s tail between it’s legs. Phil stood up, and Chris bit his lip as he hovered in the bathroom doorway.

“Actually, Phil, can Dan and I, just-”

Phil flushed red and sat back down, bowing his head and tucking his hands under his thighs. “No, yeah, of course, I just thought… whatever, sorry.” He brought his left thumb into his mouth, chewing on the thumbnail. Chris didn’t say anything, just nodded and closed the door behind them, him and Dan on one side, and Phil on the other. Phil cursed under his breath. Why did he think this time would be any different than the thousands of other times?

_It’s fine,_ Phil repeated as a mantra in his head, finishing it off with an _‘at least you have practice_.’ He chuckled bitterly at his own joke and decide that the best way to deal with his feelings, was to ignore them completely and drown them out with the help of memes. Only just barely dulling the numbing, empty pain in his chest. 

On the other side of the door, Dan rolled his eyes and leaned on the edge of the sink as Chris crossed his arms. “Okay, what the fuck Dan, what’s going on?”

“Nothing. Okay, great, glad we had this little chat, I’m going now, bye.” He moved towards the door, but Chris blocked it with his body.

“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong. I know how you sound when you’re holding back tears, and you were maybe fifteen seconds from straight-up bawling back there.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Tough fucking luck.” Chris didn’t budge, just stared Dan down. “Now talk.”

Dan looked up at Chris with slightly watery eyes.

“What the fuck do you want me to say, huh?”

“How about we start with the truth, Dan, come on.”

Dan scrubbed at his leaking eyes with the heel of his hand, muttering angrily under his breath.

“What if I don’t know the truth, Chris? What then?” Dan’s voice was small, practically a whisper, and Chris dropped his arms, letting them hang loose and defeated by his sides.

Chris didn’t know how else to reply, other than to just hug Dan. Dan clung on as Chris said, “it might not seem like it, but remember, I am on your side.” Dan just sniffled in response.

Wanting to lighten the mood, Chris tried to crack a joke, “except for against Louise, I would very much like to keep my genitalia intact, thank you very much.”

Dan laughed weakly, wiping at his eyes again. “You’re right. She could probably rip your dick off, if just the thought of it didn’t already make your balls shrivel back from whence they came.”

Chris smiled. Dan was being sarcastic, he was okay. “Ooohhhh, ‘from whence they came,’ look at posh boy here,” Chris taunted jokingly.

Phil and Louise looked up when they heard the doorknob to the bathroom turn, Chris emerging followed quickly by Dan.

“Was it a good fuck, Dan?” Louise asked with a laugh. “Going by your blush I’ll take it that Chris actually knows how to use his dick, other than wave it around.”

Something dark, possessive and primal flashed across Phil’s eyes for a split second, but then he blinked and it was gone. Dan shook his head, trying to get it out of his mind. It couldn’t possibly mean anything.

“When did you get here?” Dan asked instead, moving to sit on his own bed. Phil was laying down on his bed, with Louise sat cross-legged at the foot of it. Chris just folded himself down to sit on the floor, spreading his legs in a split.

“Nothing interesting was happening, I wanted to see if I could get a front-row seat to the shitshow that is Phan.”

“‘Phan?’” Dan asked with a disinterested raise of his eyebrow, as Chris curiously looked at Dan. “Have the hairspray fumes finally gotten to you?”

“It’s what I’m calling the- whatever the hell is going on between you two,” Louise said with a wave of her hand. “Also I know that it’ll piss you right off.”

“Well, you’re right about that,” Dan mumbled, and Louise laughed. 

“All the more reason to do it then.”

“Love you too, Lou.”

“Wait. Wait. Wait. She gets ‘I love you’ and I get a pissed off Dan?” Chris over-exaggeratedly exclaimed, throwing himself onto his back in a fake temper tantrum.

“What can I say I love her more.” Dan said warmly, leaving little room to interpret it as anything but a joke.

The three friends fell back into their casual banter as Phil sat to the side, unsure if he should at all offer his input. To be on the safe side he stuck the to silence of his thoughts, hugging his knees to his chest and resting his chin on them, just watching, yearning for something similar one day.

Chris seemed to pick up on the fourth person sitting quietly in the room. 

“Well, someone’s being uncharacteristically quiet.” Having Louise and Dan’s attention brought upon him made Phil feel as if they just remembered his existence.

“Just… don’t have anything to say,” Phil supplied lamely. Chris’ laugh sounded like it was startled out of him.

“You had essays to say to Dan earlier, come on. Something wrong?”

Phil shook his head. “‘Course not.” 

“I’m calling bull, you always have something to say,” Dan chimed in, in a now-giggly voice.

“I’m fine, guys, really, I was just lost in thought,” Phil responded, with a forced laugh, putting up a convincing enough facade for all but Dan, who had memorised the way Phil smiled and laughed. Staring at Phil for a few seconds, he tried to figure out why, as Phil wasn’t the type of person to not tell people what was bothering him. It finally clicked: his composure completely changed from confident to meek when he was asked to stay outside for his and Chris’ little chat, and the same thing happened multiple times on the bus. 

Dan decided not to bring it up, but, nonetheless, he kept thinking of it as the conversation between the four of them continued, and they went down for lunch. 

“Okay, see, this run down, low quality hotel has better food than are tax-payed-for public school. I’m suing.” Chris joked.

“Have fun with that,” Dan mumbled through a mouthful of pasta. “I can just imagine what you’d say in court.”

Chris, stood up, putting his hand on his heart and bellowing in an overly-professional voice, “I believe that children should be able to buy non-radioactive food from their school. All in favour say ‘aye’”

“That is _not_ how court works,” Phil scoffed, poking at the food on his plate. “At least since the sixteen hundreds or so.”

“All in favor for Phil to fuck right off say ‘aye.’” A resounding chorus of ‘aye’ echoed from Dan and Louise.

“Sorry, I guess,” Phil mumbled.

_‘This guy never stops judging himself, does he?’_ Dan thought, now seeing the deflated posture in Phil.

“I’m just fucking with you Phil,” Chris said, stealing a fry off of Phil’s plate. Phil offered him the rest of his fries and a small smile.

“Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t look now,” Louise said, leaning in, “but I think the plastics are on to us.”

“Are you actually twelve, oh, my god,” Dan said with a groan, shoveling more pasta into his mouth.

“On a scale of one to ten, maybe. But you knew the reference, so it’s not like you’re any better.”

“I was watching it ironically,” Dan pointed out.

“Right, just like how those tears at the end of _The Princess Bride_ were ironic, too?”

Dan set down his fork, standing up to lean across the table and get in Louise’s face. “ _The Princess Bride_ in a cinematic masterpiece, okay, you can fucking shove it. Those who didn’t cry aren’t human”

Phil watched as the trio dissolved back into their banter and chatter, pushing the pasta on his plate around with a somber expression and vaguely sexual squelching noises. He eventually gave up and put his fork down, leaning his cheek in his hand and staring out of the grimy window across the dining room.

“Twice in one day, really, Phil?’

“Huh? Sorry I was just thinking.” Phil coughed, snapping himself back to reality.

“What about? Dan naked?”

Dan groaned, ignoring the fluttery feeling that came at the thought, “oh, shut up, if anything it would be of you, not me. You’re pan and he’s bi, why don’t you just go and date already instead of forcing me to, geez.”

“That’s a good question, why haven’t you guys tried going out?” Louise questioned.

Phil laughed, but Chris blushed, biting his lips and staring down at his plate. Suffice to say Dan just found his new torment material for the year. Dan was feeling somewhat proud of himself for getting the attention off of his relationship with Phil, or more accurately, lack thereof, until Louise took it as a serious question. 

“Wait, Chris,” Louise said, once she noticed Chris’ red cheeks. “You- you actually…”

“I mean-” Chris said, right at the same time Phil started, “wait, actually-”

“I’ve considered it,” Chris finished, and Phil stopped cold.

Dan almost choked on his own spit. Phil was equally surprised, if the fact that his jaw was dropped so low it was almost touching the tabletop was any indication.

“What?” Chris asked to the three dumbfounded people at the table. “From a purely objective standpoint, Phil’s pretty fit, and we have a lot of the same interests.”

“You mean you both hate me,” Dan muttered. His gut was twisting and he didn’t know why. A lump appeared in his throat but he swallowed it down.

“True,” Phil admitted, “but I mean, I’ve been in relationships have been founded on less.”

Louise looked like she had just won the lottery. “Oh, my god…” she whispered, one hand coming up to cover her open mouth. “Did this just happen? Dan, pinch me, make sure I’m not dreaming.”

Oh, I could do one better and fucking punch you right now, Dan thought. He blinked, unclenching his fists. Why was he so mad? He pushed back from the table, the legs of his chair making an ugly scraping noise and he stood up.

“Dan, where are you going?” Louise asked, but Dan just bowed his head and stormed off. He didn’t really know where he was going either, he just knew that he needed to get away. Get away from Phil, from Chris, from the possibility of them getting together. His head spun and he clenched his teeth, pushing open the front door, letting it slam shut behind him.

There was a small dirt path that lead through the sickly garden in the hotel’s front lawn, winding around to the side of the brick building. Dan walked until he couldn’t see the street, surrounded by bare branches and wilting flowers. The wind picked up, stirring his hair and teasing at the tip of his nose, taunting him. Dan whirled around with a wordless exclamation, his fist connecting with the rough brick wall behind him. The impact hurt, jarring all the way up through his shoulder, but Dan didn’t care, bracing himself against the wall with his right hand and bringing his fist down, over and over again.

Dan stopped when he saw blood, rivulets of red smeared on the wall and on his knuckles. He stared down at his hand, breathing heavily, watching as blood welled up and trickled down onto his palm, filling up the cracks on his palm before gathering, dripping to the ground with a soft sound. He sniffed, his nose beginning to clog from his tears and the cold. He leaned his back against the wall and slid down, holding his head in his hands.

How the _fuck_ was he going to explain that. Fuck it, he’d think of that later, right now he needed to get something to speed up the clotting process on his hand. He picked the little bits of dirt and grime out, bringing his hand up to his mouth and licking it. He made a face at the coppery taste, spitting it out. Okay. Time for Plan B. He didn’t have a Plan B.

Picking himself up and brushing the leaves off his but, Dan walked back inside, his bleeding hand hidden in his sweatshirt pocket, when a teacher stopped him, noticing the way his sweater pocket was stained red.

“Daniel, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Halliday asked, her eyebrows concerned. 

“Nothing, everything is fine,” Dan said with a tight laugh and even tighter smile.

“Then why is there blood coming from your sweater?”

“Oh, I, uh, I fell,” Dan supplied lamely.

“Well if it’s bleeding than you need go to clean it up, otherwise it might get infected. Here, let me see.” She held out her hand, and Dan sighed, removing his hand from his pocket and gingerly placing it in hers,

“You fell, hmm?” Mrs. Halliday asked, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Onto what, some other kid’s face?”

“No, I- er, I… scraped it. Against a wall,” Dan lied, not even pretending to appear sheepish. Mrs. Halliday raised an eyebrow, but sighed and let it slide.

“It doesn’t matter. Come with me.” She turned on her heel, grabbing Dan’s wrist and marching down the hall. Dan stumbled as he tried to keep up. 

“This might sting,” Mrs. Halliday warned, taking the cap off of the disinfectant spray and spraying it onto Dan’s wrist. Dan nodded, but still winced when substance hit his skin.

Mrs. Halliday tried, but she couldn’t get the bandage to stay on, eventually giving up and wrapping Dan’s hand in gauze so it would stay covered. She sent him up to his room with a warning, and Dan bowed his head as he felt six years old all over again, sent up to his room to nurse his wounds.

Phil was there when Dan opened the door, keeping his hand tucked in his pocket. He immediately pulled off his sweatshirt, balling it up and shoving it in the corner behind his suitcase, finding another sweater and pulling it on instead, careful to keep his hand out of Phil’s view. Phil barely even glanced up from his book. Dan was almost grateful for Phil’s lack of interest. One less lie he would have to tell today. Phil turned the page.

“Where were you?” he asked, his face and voice carefully neutral. Dan almost groaned aloud.

“Nowhere,” he mumbled instead, turning on his side so his back was to Phil, curling in on himself.

Phil changed tactics. “Why did you storm out?”

“Why do you fucking care?” Dan bit back, glaring over his shoulder. Phil looked up, his narrowed eyes locking onto Dan’s.

“Well I’m sorry for being polite, or pretending to give a damn,” he snapped. He left out the part where he said that he was actually worried. Dan rolled his eyes, facing back around and hunching over even more. He didn’t know what else to say. Phil turned the page again, and Dan clenched his eyes shut, bringing his hands up to cover his ears, the noise too much, too loud in the icy stillness of the room.

“What the fuck happened to your hand?” Phil exclaimed, putting his book down and half-sitting up, conflicted whether or not to go over to Dan or stay where he was. Dna quite effectively made that decision for him.

“Why fuck do you care?” Dan’s voice was mimicking Phil’s earlier, yet was still low, dangerous, that or a cornered animal who had no choice left but to fight.

“Well, if the person I’m sharing a room with gets up because he has a sudden bloodlust, I bloody well think I should know.”

“Or you could keep your bird-beak fucking nose out of my fucking business, now isn’t that a novel fucking idea,” Dan spat, sitting up, He leaned back on his left hand then winced at the pain that shot up his arm. Phil didn’t miss it, but his ego did sting a little at Dan’s comment. It was always one of the things he had been made fun of for, when he was younger.

“It’s no wonder you don’t have more friends,” Phil spit, grabbing his book in shaking hands and standing up. “If this is how you treat them.”

“Well, some is better than none, and you’re not my friend.” 

Now it was Phil’s turn to bite blink back tears.

“I may not be, but I was being friendly.”

“Cry me a fucking river,” Dan muttered. “Then do us all a favor and drown yourself in it.”

“Ah, suicide, can’t say I haven’t thought of it before,” Phil said in a sarcastic tone, “but, really original with your jokes there, Dan, must have taken all both of your brain cells to come up with it. I applaud you, really.”

Dan stood up, snarling.

“Gonna hit me Dan? I must say, it’s gonna be hard, seeing how your dominant knuckles are all fucked up. But I suppose it really does just match the rest of you now.”

Dan’s nose was practically touching Phil’s as he spit his last words.

“Welcome to rock fucking bottom, Phil. Can’t wait to see where you’ll be going from here.”

With that, Dan spun on his heel, making sure to slam the door extra hard behind him. Phil sank back on his bed, his knuckles white with how hard he was clenching his fists. His next exhale was shaky, but he managed to pull himself together before the tears fell.

When Dan slunk back into the room two hours later with red-rimmed eyes, neither boy said a single word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me what you thought about it! I live off of cashews and validation!


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so late!!! My friend and had trouble but, man, do I love this chapter.  
> *Listen, you might hate me for this chapter.*

Mornings after crying yourself to sleep always leave your chest feeling heavy or empty, and the two boys had opposite feelings to this. Phil’s guilt felt like a rock on his back and a collar on his neck, constricting a little tighter every time he saw Dan. His heart hung heavy in his chest, and it only got heavier every time Dan stared right through him.

Dan felt like a ghost, floating through his day without registering anything. His mind was in a haze, pleasantly blank, and Louise had to say his name five times before he heard her. Phil, on the other hand, was flooded with guilt, guilt not only because he hurt Dan, but also how that reflects on him as a person.

What kind of person just gets so swept up in the moment they say the most cruel thing they can think of? Probably not a good one. And there Phil was, spewing insults whenever Dan opened his mouth simply because that’s what came to mind? Why can’t he just think before he speaks? Would that even make him a better person? He would still be thinking those things, but merely biting his tongue. But, no. Arguably it’s better to spare the other person, not burn bridges, and not be the asshole that everyone already expects him to be. Tearing apart people’s arguments, ideas, and beliefs, and letting them flow in the wind, like ribbons, for all to see, it was no wonder why he spent most of his time alone.

Why can’t he just follow the pecking order, fit in in some way, instead of completely disregarding it and pissing off everyone who ranks in it at all. Phil spent the day with anchors attached to his feet, only sighing and pointing out when Dan essentially stared at him as he changed into his changed into his clothing, which Dan would adamantly say wasn’t because he was attracted or intrigued by Phil, but that he look weird, before he left for the breakfast provided by the hotel.

Dragging his feet down to the eating area, he bumped into Chris. “Oh, hey, Phil.”

Phil nodded, grunting a small ‘hi’ back.

“You okay?” Chris asked, noticing how off Phil looked. Phil nodded, pasting on as convincing of a smile as he could manage.

“Yeah, fine. Why?”

“No reason,” Chris said, shaking his head. He frowned. “Where’s Dan?”

“He’s still asleep,” Phil said, walking with Chris up to the breakfast buffet. Chris grabbed a plate and loaded it down, looking at Phil with a raised eyebrow when Phil didn’t get anything. Chris didn’t say anything, however, and walked over to the table Louise had already claimed, sliding into a seat. Phil sat as well, resting his elbows on the table and putting his face in his hands, taking a few deep breaths. Louise shot Chris a look and Chris shrugged, shovelling pancakes into his mouth. Phil took his hands away, smiling a bright smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“What happened to Dan last night?” Chris asked, looking up from the food on his plate

“Fuck if I know,” Phil said with a tone of bitterness, “he came to the room with bleeding knuckles and a pissy attitude.”

“And the reason for the two?” Louise skeptically questioned.

“Unbeknownst to me,” Phil muttered, looking away. His leg started bouncing and his eyes scanned over the room, looking for something.

Chris gave Louise a look. _Drop it,_ he said with his eyes. Louise nodded, still eying Phil like she wanted to say something else

Observing the two of them, Phil sighed, “He told me nothing. I tried, but nothing.”

“Really?”

“Scouts honour, not that I was ever a scout.” Phil chewed his thumbnail. “He’s still in bed, asleep.”

“Okay.” Louise didn’t look like she entirely believed him but she left the topic alone, switching to some long-winded rant on why homophobia was literally the worst thing to ever happen to men’s fashion. Phil tuned her out easily enough, gazing out the window and rolling his eyes and groaning when he realised he was acting just like the lead of a rom-com. He turned around and tried to actually weigh in on the conversation, offering agreements and throwaway comments whenever seemed appropriate.

When that died down Louise decided that it was time the topic from last night, the one Dan’s temper tantrum interrupted, to continue.

“So, about that crush, Chris…”

Chris groaned immediately in response, “I will never tell you anything again, I’m not kidding. I thought that had died down, besides, it’s not like I have a full blown crush on him, and…” This is when he got into rambling territory, and Louise started to laugh.

Interrupting Chris’ rant with her giggly tone, Louise taunted “And what it is that you plan to do with this not- _yet_ -fully-developed crush?”

“Your mum,” Chris responded childishly, his face burning, which only caused Louise to laugh harder. “When you can’t think of a good comeback, that’s when I know you’re in too deep.”

Phil wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be uncomfortable by the conversation happening right next to him, or if Chris and Louise even remembered he was there. He shifted slightly, putting his chin in his hand and observing Chris. How he talked with his hands, like he had to touch every word while he said it. How he tossed his hair out of his face with a flick of his head every few minutes, an automatic response. How he jiggled his leg and pulled at the skin of his cuticles when he caught Phil staring, ducking his head and blushing harder. Phil snapped out of his mini reverie, almost knocking his chair over in his haste to stand from the table.

“I - I’m gonna go check on Dan,” he said, stumbling as he hurried away from the table.

“See what you did Louise, you made him uncomfortable.”

“It’s more than a crush, isn’t it,” Louise asked softly, not even hearing Chris’ accusation. Chris scoffed and crossed his arms.

“No, it’s not, Louise, and if you keep this up you’ll be more than crushed. Flat. By my massive balls.”

“There’s the Chris I know, where did he go?” Louise said, making a searching gesture by putting her hand above her eyes, “did his feelings for Phil scare him off?”

“Penis feelings, that Chris went to masturbate.” Chris shoveled cold potatoes from his plate into his mouth, not even bothering to swallow before speaking. “Feelings are for the weak.”

“So they’d be right at home in you,” Louise shot back, sipping her water. Chris stuck his tongue, covered with half-chewed potatoes, out at her.

“ _Touché,_ however I pick my friends to be like myself.”

“Touché times two, or _two_ -ché.”

“And people say I’m a dad. Daddy more like.”

“Keep your kinks to yourself, Kendall.”

When Phil got to the room, Dan was still in bed.

“Migraine?”

Dan groaned tiredly in agreement, squinting when he peeked his head up from under the blankets to blink blearily at Phil. Something inside of Phil was pulled towards him, and he padded forward, sitting gingerly down on the edge of Dan’s bed and, after an intense internal debate, draping his hand over Dan’s shoulder. Dan tensed but then relaxed under the touch, groaning as Phil started to move his hand, rubbing in small, comforting circles.

“Did you take an Advil or anything?” Phil asked, his voice laced with concern.

“I couldn’t walk from the bed to get it.”

“Wait here, I’ll go get it.”

“Wasn’t planning on going anywhere.” Dan sarcastically snapped, wincing when the outburst made his head pang. He lay back with a groan as Phil fetched the pills and a glass of water from the tap in the bathroom. Dan sat up and took both of them when Phil offered, swallowing the pills and gulping the water greedily. He lay back down with a sigh, already looking more relaxed than when Phil had entered the room. Phil refilled the water glass once more, setting it on the nightstand.

“Are you going to be able to get out of bed today?”

“Not when it’s this bad,” Dan grumbled, rolling onto his side. Phil didn’t even think of anything to say before Dan was sound asleep, his breath making little huffing noises as he exhaled.

He look at peace for one of the only times Phil had seen it. His eyelids were lightly closed and dusted lavender, not scrunched up, but resting. His chest was rising falling as soft breaths made their way up from his lungs and through his pink, parted lips. Phil wanted to kiss him.

It was a trick of the light. How Dan’s hair was brushed all in front, messy against his forehead. How his head was turned to the side so his head appeared, shorter, rounder; more like Chris’. _Yeah,_ Phil thought to himself as he stumbled out of the room, closing the door as silently as possible before collapsing into the opposite wall. Dan had looked like Chris. That was why Phil had wanted to kiss him. It was a trick of the light.

Phil slowly picked himself up, pulling himself together. His first few steps were shaky, but he stumbled on, pressing his the heels of his hands to his eyes until spots danced beneath them. He pulled his hands away, blinking away the lightning bolts that crackled through his vision. He wanted to kiss Chris, and Dan had just looked like Chris, in the soft morning light that seeped in through the translucent, gauzy curtain. It hadn’t been Dan. It had been a trick of the light.

Dan groaned when Phil came back into the room, squinting his eyes against the harsh light of the hallway before Phil softly closed the door behind him.

“Weren’t you just here?” Dan asked, his voice raspy and brittle. Phil ghosted over to perch at the side of his bed again. He kept his hands to himself.

“I’ve been gone for four hours, Dan,” Phil said gently. “It’s just past one.”

“Fuck,” Dan groaned, stretching out the U, flopping back onto his pillow. “I just got an F on that assignment, didn’t I?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Phil soothed, his hand finally coming up to clasp Dan's’ shoulder. Dan looked up at him. Phil must have told the teacher, and he would have to make it up later. “Thanks,” he sighed, his eyes sliding shut again. His head felt like it was filled with bees, and is tongue felt like it was made of cotton.

“Drink this, before you fall asleep again,” Phil said, handing Dan the glass of water and two small pills. Dan took them, tossing back the pills and chugging the water. Phil filled the glass again.

He almost liked Dan being sick. Not as some sort of sadistic thing, but Phil simply liked the fact that Dan was being soft and pliant and not trying to verbally tear him a new one at every possible - and even some impossible - opportunity.

Dan’s eyelids felt heavy as he struggled to keep them open. His posture folded as he made a failing attempt to stay awake, collapsing back down onto the bed. Phil rearranged him with gentle hands, making sure he was laying in a way so he wouldn’t wake up with a massive kink in his neck.

In a way, he felt sorry for Dan, he came all this way, on a bus and in a room with someone he doesn’t like, and he’s not well enough to leave the bed. The silence of the room was interrupted by Phil’s thoughts, crashing through like a drunk uncle at a family reunion. His head spun and he felt dizzy, his knees almost buckling with the thoughts of him and Chris and what he was going to do about his newly-discovered feelings

He decided to leave Dan to sleep in peace and go. He decided he didn’t like the way the room dipped and swam, and he stumbled a bit as he rushed out, closing the door as softly as he could and leaning against it. He pressed the heels of his palms to his eyes, gasping slightly. He pushed off the door, taking three steps before his knees stopped trembling. Chris. He had to find Chris.

When he got to the hotel’s lunch room he looked around to see if Chris and Louise were still there, when he spotted Louise waving fervently while Chris sat beside her with bright red cheeks. When he got over there Louise greeted him, her greeting was almost immediately interrupted by Chris saying telling her to apologize.

“It’s fine, Chris, no one needs to apologize,” Phil mumbled, staring at his toes. Chris looked at him like he had gone mad.

“Don’t you remember? This morning? Why am I the only one with natural human responses to things, I don’t-” The rest of what he was going to say was abruptly cut off with a strangled sound when Phil kissed him. Louise just stared, wide-eyed and slack-jawed as Phil stepped right in front of Chris, bent down, grabbed the front of his jacket, and kissed him.

“I-” Chris said when Phil pulled away, blinking owlishly up at him. Phil sighed, unclenching one hand from the lapel of Chris’ shirt and bringing it up to cup his cheek.

“Chris?” he said, and the boy in question nodded. “For once in your life, someone’s managed to shut you up,” Phil chuckled, and he leaned in again.

Louise turned bright red and her back on the boys, clearing her throat awkwardly and shuddering slightly when the wet noises of lips and tongues permeated the air around her.

“Gross,” Louise complained when she heard things getting more heated. “Get a room, you two.”

“Karma’s a bitch.”

“Only when you are.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It means you’re a cockblock.”

“Chris,” Phil scolded, lightly slapping his shoulder, “and, sorry, but, Louise, you _did_ kinda push us into this.”

“Firstly, I never thought either of you would actually have the balls for it, and secondly that doesn’t give you the right to procreate in front of me.”

“Darn, and to think I was this close to pulling my dick. Oh well, sorry, Phil, no exhibitionism in front of Louise,” Chris sighed sarcastically disappointed

“Oh, golly gee, how will I manage to remember that one?” Phil faked confusion.

Louise laughed, and put on her Mrs. Honey impression, “I don’t care _how_ you remember it as long as you do,” she said with fake venom. “If I see a cock or even a nipple I’m going to be so mad.”

“I’ll wear pasties and a thong, then,” Phil said, leaning in to kiss up Chris’ neck. Louise gagged and stood up. “Go to Chris’ room for Christ’s sake. I’m gonna go find Rosie, hopefully there’s less making out where she is.”

The three of them turn around to see Rosie and Rose making out. Louise threw up her hands, desperately trying to keep an face, but failing miserably.

“This is too much!” she said, holding her fist up indignantly while trying not to giggle. She jumped up and stormed off, but Phil and Chris could her her howls of laughter even from across the lawn, so they knew she was okay.

“So,” Chris said, looking up into Phil’s eyes. Phil blinked back, his cheeks tinged pink.

“I’m sorry,” Phil said, standing up and pulling away. “I didn’t even think, I’m sorry-”

Chris grabbed Phil by the front of his shirt, pulling him down for another kiss. Phil’s eyes widened but he eventually relaxed into it, bringing his hands up to clutch at Chris’ shoulders.

“I didn’t say I minded,” Chris said. Phil blushed harder.

He leaned his face into Chris’ shoulder. Chris just laughed, taking Phil’ s cheeks in his hands and bringing him back up. Chris’ eyes slid closed as soon as their lips met, but Phil’s wouldn’t. His brow furrowed slightly. Chris tasted like cinnamon and and laughter, sharp and tangy. Phil wondered what Dan tasted like, if he were sweeter, if his lips were softer. Phil clenched his eyes shut and just kissed back harder, bringing his hands up to grab at Chris’ hips, swallowing the gasp it elicited.

Dan had taken hours to recover from his agonising migraine, and still had bit of a headache left over from it. He decided that he was too bored to stay in the room, so he went out to find Chris, Louise, and Phil. Wait, not Phil. Just Chris and Louise, he told himself.

The icy floor burned the soles of his feet as he stepped from the bed. He stumbled the slightest bit, his head swimming from the sudden change in position. He put his head between his knees until the floaty feeling passed. He needed to see what he missed. Knowing Chris and Louise, there could have been a lot going on he wasn’t made aware of in his almost comatose state. Plus, he needed to ask Phil what he needed to do to make up the project from earlier that morning. Dan slowly made his way down the stairs, tightly clutching onto the railing for support, on his way down to the general lounge, cursing the building’s lack of elevator at every step. He coughed once and groaned, the action making him aware of how much his throat felt like he had tried to deepthroat a cactus wrapped in sandpaper. He’d have to get a glass of water downstairs.

He grabs a plastic cup from next to the sink in the lounge, filling it up and downing it in three gulps. He refills it again, turning around to survey the room. There were a good few people, hanging out on couches or on the floor, reading or talking or playing cards, but he didn’t see Chris or Louise. Kayla, a girl from his English class, bounced passes him, and Dan cleared his throat.

“Hey Ka-” His voice was barely over a whisper. He cleared his throat again and tried again.

“Hey Kayla?” Not perfect, but better. The girl in question paused, looking back at Dan with a quizzically raised eyebrow. “What’s up Dan? You feeling okay?”

“I’m okay, thanks,” Dan said with a small smile. Kayla grinned back. “I was just wondering,” Dan continued, “do you know where Chris or Louise are?” He took a sip of water.

“I think Louise went back up to her room,” Kayla said, fiddling with her silver bracelet, “and last I saw Chris had his tongue down Phil’s throat in the courtyard-”

Dan couldn’t help it. He choked, briefly, and spit water directly into Kayla’s face.

“The fuck, Howell?” She yelled, glaring at him. “Fucking nasty, oh my god.” 

“Oh, my god,” Dan panicked, “I am _so_ sorry. I didn’t mean to! Uhhh, here are a few napkins, I’m so sorry; I ju-” 

“It’s fine, Dan,” Kayla said, in a friendly, yet dismissive, tone. Dan’s cheeks blazed and he hung his head, scrambling out of the room under the judgmental eyes of everyone around.

On his way out he saw the three of them, Chris, Phil, and Louise, sitting at a cement table outside. His heart physically panged when he saw how close Phil and Chris were sitting, with their thighs pressed against one another and their hands loosely tangled in Chris’ lap, but he swallowed his feelings and walked up to them.

Louise was the one facing him so she saw Dan first, and Dan could see how her eyes widened for a second before she quickly said something, and the three of them stopped talking as he approached.

“If this was about your plan to kill me in my sleep,” Dan said, pasting on a fake smile and swallowing past the lump in his throat, “then please, keep going by all means.” The three of them just blinked at him. Dan could almost hear the crickets.

“Never mind,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I feel like Thomas Jefferson, what did I miss?”

“Nothing,” they said in almost perfect unison, Phil and Chris dropping hands and scooting slightly apart.

“Okay,” Dan said brightly, even though he died a little bit inside. He blinked fiercely, trying to stop the frustrated prickling behind his eyelids before it spilled over. He hopped up onto the table, facing them with his legs crossed.

Dan decided to change the subject, “So, Phil, how’d you get the teacher to give me an extension?”

Phil blinked, then blushed the tiniest bit. He picked his fingernails and opened his mouth. “I-” 

Chris cut him off. “He didn’t. He did it, and just put the both of your names on it.”

The prickly feeling tipped over, and Dan sniffled slightly as he pressed a hand to his eyes

“Thanks for your vote of confidence in my competence guys, I really appreciate it,” Dan said thickly.

“Why are you so mad about it? I’d love it if I had someone who knows how to get good grades do my work.” Chris asked. “He did you a favor.”

Dan sat quietly, stunned into silence by Chris’ comments. 

“I bet there are other things you’d love if someone with good grades did to you,” he muttered, and Chris’ lip pulled up in a sneer. 

“And what’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“I think you know what it’s supposed to mean. I think you just didn’t think I knew.”

“You sound like the bitter best friend of a rom com lead,” Chris spat.

“And you sound like a shitty friend.”

Dan stood up to leave. Phil stood to stop him.

“Come on, Dan. Sit down,” Phil said, almost pleading. Dan almost did.

“Let him go,” Chris scoffed.

“Chris,” both Louise and Phil hissed.

“No, you know what, I’ve had enough of your shit,” Louise said, slamming her hands on the table. “Phil, stand with me at this end. Chris, sit down. Dan, sit here. Mega mom has arrived bitches, fall in place.”

Dan wasn’t sure what to do. He had never seen Louise this angry about something, and if he had, she had definitely covered it well. He slid meekly into place, keeping his head bowed. Even Chris looked surprised, and he all but fell back into his seat.

“Dan, you’re starting. Why are you crying?”

“Cause I’m fucking mad,” Dan spat. He angrily wiped at his eyes. 

“Okay, and why is that?”

With pleading eyes, Dan looked up at her, “Please don’t make me go first.”

Louise might have been pissed off, but she wasn’t a monster. “Okay, Dan, but you’re just delaying it.”

“ _What‽_ How is that fair‽” Chris exclaimed.

Louise just looked at Chris and he shut up.

“Chris, I am this fucking close to slapping you upside the head and making you apologize.” Dan could almost hear her teeth grinding. “You’re acting like petulant children, both of you, so that’s how I’m treating you. If I need to put you on time out in separate rooms until you’re ready to have a civilised conversation like the two adult-types you are, don’t you fucking think I won’t.”

Everyone at the table fell silent.

“Are we fucking understood?” Louise asked. Dan and Chris looked at each other, then nodded. “Okay, now that that is clear, Chris, can you tell me what the problem here is?”

“Dan’s a fucking tosser,” Chris said. Louise smacked him on the back of the head, hard.

“Apparently I wasn’t clear enough,” she said through clenched teeth. “Be. Civil. You. Shit.”

“Says you.”

“Chris, I swear to fucking god,” Louise breathed, leaning in close. Chris visibly shrank back when she stared at him. “This is your last warning.”

“Okay, sorry,” Chris grumbled, falling back. “I guess it’s just that I guess I feel a bit like I’ve been walking on eggshells recently to keep from angering and hurting Dan, and it gets to someone, you know? I don’t want to accidentally do something to upset him, but I’m tired of watching what I say all the time. It’s hard for someone who never does that outside of formal situations. Even then,” a self-deprecating chuckle escaped his lips as his eyes watered a bit. “I love you, man, but you’re constantly snapping and I’m lost because I don’t know your boundaries anymore. It’s almost like I don’t know _you_ anymore.”

Dan wasn’t crying by the end of Chris’ little speech. He definitely wasn’t. The water running down his face was entirely coincidental.

Louise cleared her throat. Her voice was thicker when she next spoke. “Dan, same question to you.”

Dan took a breath, chewing his fingernail and determinedly looking everywhere but the three people at the table with him. “I’ve been having to deal with so much of my own shit right now, and there are so many things that I’m uncertain about, and those are the things I don’t like you jabbing at. My- my world views are being compromised here, and I have no idea what to do. You think _you’re_ lost?”

Chris took a breath in and looked as if he was about to speak, but then stopped.

“What is it?” Dan asked, noticing Chris’s hesitance.

“Nothing,” Chris replied too quickly.

“The entire point is to speak your mind,” Louise said. Chris glared.

“No, the point was to forgive each other.”

“Tell us, Chris.” Dan said,  


“No. I’m not stepping on the eggshells now.”

“You can’t leave until you say it.” Louise said

‘Fine, but you asked for it. Not to sound like a massive douchecanoe, but -” Chris closed his eyes and took a breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. He didn’t open his eyes. “Most of your problems right now are stemming from the fact that you can’t accept the facts. I’m sorry, but it’s true.” He opened his eyes again, just in time to see Dan all but bristle with anger.

“‘Accept the facts?’ What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Chris fell silent.

“What could it possibly be, Chris?”

The entire table stared at Chris, and Chris, in response, stared back, shocked. “You can’t be serious. You’re making me say it?”

The table remained frozen, as if the only way to make time progress is to break the one unspoken rule that everyone knew.

Looking down, as if he was ashamed to say it, “your non-heterosexuality, for starters,” Chris said in a gentle voice. Dan’s eyes widened, and he looked shocked and hurt. Somehow this only made Chris angrier.

“Oh, come on. Don’t fucking play that, Dan. Everyone was thinking it.”

“Well I’m sorry my fucking daddy issues aren’t coming out in my sex life, Chris. At least my dad loves me enough to stay and I don’t have to project onto the first boy I see. He even looks a little like him, doesn’t he Chris, tall and blue eyes and dark hair?”

Chris was as white a sheet, and his lower lips trembled a little bit. Dan was breathless, an indescribable blade of guilt twisting in his gut as soon as the words left his mouth.

“I’ve been in arguments with you before, Dan, but that was a low fucking blow.” Chris spat, his voice laced with poorly masked anger. Dan noticed with a small amount of sadistic glee that Chris was on the brink of tears, the anger covering a deep, deep sadness. He had done it; he had finally broken past Chris’ sarcastic armour and found something that actually hurt him. 

“How does it fucking feel, Chris?” Dan hissed. He leaned across the table. “How does that fucking feel?”

“Like someone I used to know decided to torch everyone and everything near him because he could. If you think this makes you strong, I really don’t know you anymore. Have fun on the bottom, because I’m not letting you drag me down to your level.”

Louise stared in shock; it’s like their two personas switched. Chris turning the other cheek was nearly unheard of, and Dan was usually someone of little to no conflict.

“I’m leaving,” Chris announced after a few tense moments. He stood up, furiously wiping at his eyes. “Phil, come with me,” he said, at the exact same moment Dan asked “Phil, will you stay with me?”

Phil panicked; he looked like a deer caught in the headlights. He brought his left hand up to his mouth, biting his thumbnail to the quick. He just licked off the blood and kept going. It felt like years, but was probably only a few seconds before Louise broke in and saved him. 

“Chris, I need to talk to you.” Louise said, not even waiting for Chris’ response before grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him into the building, presumably up to her room. Dan stood, with some difficulty, starting to walk in the direction of the hotel. Phil deliberated for a moment, then followed.

They managed to make it all the way back to their room before Dan fell apart, sliding back against the door and all but howling with his sobs. Phil stood in the center of the room, lost as to what to do. He eventually went over to Dan, looping an arm around his waist and guiding him to Phil’s bed. He sat down, pulling Dan into his lap and wrapping his arms around him as he cried into Phil’s shirt.

“Are-” Phil tried after uncountable minutes of Dan’s sobs “Are you okay?”

“Are-are we l-looking at-t the s-same per-son right n-now, Ph-Phil?” Dan hiccupped through his tears. “G-going sole-ly by h-how severely d-dehydr-drated I’m going to b-be after this-s I’m- I’m gonna go wi-with n-no.”

“Fair enough, I just don’t have that much experience.” Phil said, glad that Dan was being sarcastic again. He might not be fine, but at least he was getting there. “Like you said, I’d need to actually have friends to know how to be a good one,” Phil chuckled self-deprecatingly, trying to lighten the mood.

Apparently that was the exactly wrong thing he needed to say, because as soon as those words tumbled from his mouth, Dan’s sobs got louder and more frequent.

“T-this is s-stupi-d, I’m so-rry,” Dan said, trying to squirm out of Phil’s lap, even though Phil’s embrace didn’t lessen. “Y-you should be look-ing after your b-boyfrie-end, not af-ter the g-guy who-o insult-ted him-m-m–” The sentence broke off into more sobs, and Phil just hugged him tighter. Dan never would have admitted it, but he loved it. He loved Phil’s undivided attention, his embrace. He loved being held against the warmth of his body, listening to the soothing sounds that spilled through his lips.

The sobs were too many too close together, and Dan could feel his heart rate climbing as he struggled for breath. The world span before going black, and the last thing Dan remembered was the sickly-sweet taste of vomit in his mouth before he passed out cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment complaining about how terrible we are for being so terrible  
> I hope you enjoyed us toying with your emotions!!! (sorry) (Not really)


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry it took so long but its out for orthodox christmas!!!

The first thing Dan noticed when he woke up was his lack of pants. The second thing he noticed was his lack of a shirt. The third thing he noticed was voices, talking in low murmurs across the room. Dan wanted to go back to sleep.

His head pounded like a kickdrum and he groaned aloud, bringing the quiet conversation across the room to a screeching halt.

“Time’sit?” Dan slurred, his tongue feeling too big for his mouth.

“8:15” a voice, Phil’s voice, said gently. Dan cracked one eye open.

“Why am I naked?” Someone across the room chuckled, but Phil’s voice was as gentle as ever when he responded: “Do you not remember what happened yesterday evening?”

A montage straight out of a movie flashed through Dan’s head in full panoramic colour, from his migraine to his and Chris’ fight to the fact that he puked all over Phil. Oh fuck, he puked all over Phil.

“Anything I say about that’s probably just gonna dig me deeper, isn’t it?” Dan asked. He could almost hear Phil’s nod from the corner of the room.

“Don’t worry about it. Honestly.” Phil walked into Dan’s field of vision, smiling softly.

“Sorry about vomiting on you,” Dan said, his voice sounding as if he was disappointed in himself more than anything else.

“Hey,” Phil softly reassured, as if he were approaching a wounded animal, “it’s okay, it wasn’t your fault. Couldn’t have been, you blacked out immediately afterward.”

“Oh, and sorry for complaining yesterday when you did my work, I really should have thanked you.”

“Not a problem, but, if I may ask, what caused the change of heart.”

“I’m too tired to argue.”

“Fair enough.”

“I can do more of the project today, if you want.”

“Dan, please don’t take this the wrong way but-”

“Grades?”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“No, it’s a fair point, and the reason I was paired with you.”

Phil giggled, and Dan noticed something: this is one of the few times they had been civil and he would much rather hear Phil laugh than fight with him. This realisation was quickly followed by blushing, and vehement mental denial.

“What’s with the blush you’re sporting?”

“Thoughts.”

“Might they be thoughts of the sexual variety?” Phil said, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, my god, you’ve been spending way too much time with Chris.” Dan joked, but he seemed to choke on Chris’ name. “Uh, how is he, by the way?”

“Your guess is as good as mine, haven’t talked to him since before your guys’ fight. Though, I must say it was odd of him to turn down a fight, he seems like the type to always stand his ground.”

“He is, that’s what worries me.”

Phil just nodded silently as he packed up his stuff for the field trip that day, mostly just a notebook and pens tossed into his backpack, which he then slung over his shoulder.

“What the fuck even are we supposed to be doing?” Dan asked, sat on the edge of his bed and swinging his legs in an almost childish way.

“We’ll know when the teacher does her lecture– fuckery of a thing,” Phil said, scrubbing his hands over his face. He was just so tired, and the events of the past day had done a lot to drain his usually boisterous personality.

Dan got ready in silence, trying but failing to keep his eyes off of Phil’s face. He felt less than, somehow. It wasn’t something he was use to feeling, this nauseating combination of guilty and inadequate. Phil made his way to the washroom to get dressed and ready. In a way, he felt Dan might appreciate it more if he didn’t have to explain himself to Phil.

Dan did appreciate it; it made him relax, for a bit at least, until he started questioning why he was so relaxed that Phil left to change. He picked up his phone, having already changed, so that he could avoid falling further into his spiral of thoughts - and for a while it was working - then Phil came out wearing glasses of all things. Dan tried his best to keep his jaw from hitting the floor (or his dick, more appropriately).

“What?” he asked. If Dan didn’t know better, he would have thought Phil sounded self-conscious.

“You- I didn’t know you needed glasses,” Dan confessed, mildly impressed that his voice only breathily wavered instead of cracking. Phil tossed a lopsided smile to the floor, bringing a hand up to rub at the back of his neck.

“Yeah, my vision’s pretty shit, but I wear contacts most of the time.”

“How bad is it?” Dan asked. As someone who had 20/20 vision, Dan couldn’t imagine being dependent on some lenses to be able to see across the room.

Phil frowned, thinking. “Like, negative three and a half in both eyes?” Dan cocked his head. Like a puppy, Phil thought, then immediately tried to forget. He pulled the black frames off his face. “Here. When you wear it, it’s about what I see when I’m not, I think.”

Dan took the extended glasses, careful not to brush Phil’s fingers with his own. He slid them onto his face, blinking hard when they rested on his nose.

“Fuck,” Dan sputtered, looking up at Phil’s blurry face, “you’re blind as shit.”

Phil snorted, squinting down at Dan. Which, in hindsight, was a terrible idea because Dan’s eyes were impossibly magnified by the lenses, bright and shining and something in Phil’s chest twinged painfully with how good Dan looked.

“Take a picture of me, so I know what I look like,” Dan asked excitedly.

“Sure,” Phil said, trying to contain his own excitement as he reached into his back pocket and phil fumbled for his phone. His phone, not Dan’s, because he needed to keep that photo and Dan sure as hell wouldn’t be willing to text it to him.

Dan smiled, and Phil’s hands were almost shaking too hard to hit the button, but he pulled himself together enough to manage - knowing in the long run he would benefit immensely by having the photos (as blackmail material… obviously… No other reason. None at all).

“Okay, there.” he said as he snapped the 12th photo on his phone, “now give them back to me, I want to be able to see again.”

“Alright, alright,” Dan said in mock-defeat, and Phil almost felt like letting him keep them. As he put his glasses back on he heard a small gasp omit from Dan’s lips, but he decided not to comment on it - to save both of them the conversation. Staring at each other for a few seconds until Phil broke the silence. “”So, uh, you want to see the pictures?’

“That’s why I asked you to take them isn’t it?” Dan giggled, slightly ashamed to what Phil fucking Lester and his fucking glasses reduce him to.

“Sorry,” Phil said, sarcastically shrugging his shoulders, putting almost enough emphasis on each syllable to be cartoonish. “So, uh, here they are,” Phil extended his arm, hoping that Dan wouldn’t go through anything on it.

Dan giggled for what was probably the 50th time that day, and it wasn’t even nine am. “I look like a mole.” The smile he had made a dimple that was only slightly visible, but enough so that Phil’s heart sped up.

In order to not get caught by Dan (and himself) he spoke up. “We should probably get down to get some breakfast, or something. We have to leave in like twenty minutes.”

“Yeah, and I should probably talk to Chris too, you know, about yesterday.” Dan said, his jokey demeanor almost completely disappearing. Seeing Dan like this made Phil swallow his comment on how he’s not sure that Chris would want to talk to him after how pissed of - or rather, embarrassed - Chris was in regards to yesterday’s events.

  
They were only halfway to where they were sitting yesterday when Louise singled Dan out. “You broke him,” she venomously whispered, and Dan’s blood froze in his veins when he noticed the full force of the fire in her eyes, completely and totally serious.

“What?” Dan was perplexed, trying to figure out why Louise would be mad at him He said nothing to her, in fact she should be apologizing to both him and Chris for how she had treated them like children the night before, but before he could start arguing with Louise she extrapolated.

“Look! Look at him!” she said, pointing in the direction of a Chris who wasn’t making any passes at anyone - in fact, he wasn’t even talking to anyone at all, and he was looking down at his food without eating it, as if he couldn’t bear stomach it. “You broke him, Dan!”

“I’m sure he’s fine, Louise.” Dan scoffed.

“Fine, then you go talk to Mr. Cheerful Chris and his totally not-there personality!” Louise snapped, very poorly masking her worry.

“I will!” Dan barked back, but if he were being honest with himself, the fact that Louise was worried scared him. She had an intuition with people, especially with her friends. Dan shook that thought off and stormed off in Chris’ direction before remembering that he wanted fix things and not fight, then he changed his footing, making it a lot lighter, as if to dance as delicately around the problem with as with his worry that Louise was right.

“Hey, Chris!” He attempted to stay enthusiastic, but awkwardly failed.

Chris looked up from his food to Dan. He nodded and smiled, but it wasn’t a smile that Dan knew from Chris, it was one Chris gave his mum when she said his father would be coming over. Looking up from his smile Dan noticed the dark bags under his eyes, and the lack of mischievous light.

“So, about yesterday,” Dan started, intending to get an apology in, but Chris interrupted him.

“I’m sorry, Dan, what I said was out of line I will refrain from doing that again.”

Dan tried his hardest to find an ounce of sarcasm in Chris’ voice, but failed. Instead he found a tired, scraping sound that he had never heard from Chris before. Chris apologizing for being out of line was one thing, as he had to ask for forgiveness for his faux pas every day, but he always followed it up with a joke, or a jab. Dan waited, but Chris said nothing else. That wasn’t the only worrying thing Chris said. Chris was saying he would try to not be honest to Dan again, or at least he wouldn’t say what he perceived.

Dan wanted to get Chris out of whatever the fuck he was going through, so he offered up something Chris could never have resisted: the opportunity for a “Your Mum” joke. “So, uh, Chris?” Dan started, smirking stupidly as if he had figured out a cure to Chris’ stupor, “what are you doing?” Dan was preparing for the remark, making sure Chris heard the innuendo by putting too much emphasis on doing.

Dan’s smirk quickly fell when met with Chris’ energy-drained eyes as he slowly looked up.

“I’m not sure, you?” He sounded almost like a stranger, like Dan was someone he had spoken to twice before and they were paired together to work on something. Dan noticed Chris raise his eyebrow and look behind Dan. After following his line of view Dan saw that Phil and Louise were intensely looking at the two of them, and only to pretending to be deep in conversation when caught staring.

Dan directed his gaze back to Chris. “Can I sit here?” He hoped against hope Chris would say something perverse as usual, like, “no, but you can sit on this dick,” before laughing wholeheartedly at Dan’s mock-disgusted reaction. But Chris just nodded, keeping his chin tucked to his chest and his eyes glued to the floor. Dan sat, cautiously, waiting with bated breath for Chris to erupt at him.

It never happened. Chris kept his eyes down for a few moments longer, his gaze slowly climbing until it rested just below Dan’s chin, but he never really met Dan’s eyes.

Louise was right; Dan had broke him. Dan’s threat went dry at the thought. He opened his mouth, but no words came out. He closed it again.

A teacher came into the dining hall, barking for everyone to finish up and be out front with their partners in ten minutes. Chris abruptly stood, pressing his palms to the table and letting his hair fall in a curtain around his face. He opened his mouth, then shook his head minutely and closed it again, grabbing his plate and depositing it in the bin with more force than really necessary. Dan’s eyes followed his hunched shoulders as he exited the room, shoving the door with enough force to send it slamming into the wall. Dan looked to Phil, then to Louise, helpless.

“What the fuck happened?” he whispered, afraid of speaking too loudly and somehow setting Chris off, despite the fact the boy was nowhere near Dan. Louise shook her head softly, staring blankly at the door even as more classmates chatted their way through it.

“What the fuck indeed,” she said, and if it sounded too much like a cheesy teen movie line Dan didn’t say anything.

~-~

Dan and Phil worked in their room in silence – well, Phil worked, Dan just did his best to stay out of the way – for the entirety of the field trip, only speaking to each other on the bus ride back, six hours later. Since their departure from the hotel that morning clouds had gathered, thick and heavy in the sky, and Dan rolled his eyes. It was just like a novel; the weather synced perfectly to his mood. Did that make him the protagonist? Dan had never wanted to be the protagonist, he’d always related more to the best friend, or the love interest. Useless, but with enough clumsiness and witty remarks to unfailingly get into and out of terrible situations with or without the help of his friends. So then that made Chris the protagonist? Dan snorted and rolled his eyes, biting his lip to keep from laughing out loud at the idea of Chris being the selfless hero type.

“What?” Phil asked, breaking their day-long silence. Dan pointed to the sky.

“Chris is the protagonist.”

Phil just looked confused. Dan waved a hand dismissively. “Not important.”

They were silent for a few tense minutes. Dan picked his nails. Phil stared out the window.

“Are you okay?” Dan asked, then flinched at the sound of his own voice. It was too forced, too empty, too unsympathetic. Phil’s lips pulled down and Dan tried again.

“I mean. I know it’s a lot between me and Chris, but that doesn’t mean other people aren’t affected by us. You and Louise and stuff. And I know you, in particular, because you and Chris are- umm…” Dan trailed off stupidly. What were Phil and Chris? Boyfriends? Fuckbuddies? Friends-who-made-out-that-one-time-and-swore-to-never-speak-of-it-again? He flapped his mouth dumbly, eventually giving up and hoping Phil would fill in the now-awkward silence that stretched between them. Phil turned his hundred-yard stare from the window to Dan, and Dan winced.

“I don’t know,” Phil said, his voice so small and so, so sad. Dan’s heart broke a little bit just listening to him. “We haven’t spoken since yesterday.”

“Oh,” Dan said intelligently, frantically searching for something to follow that up with. In a part of him he would never like to admit, he was a bit relieved that Chris and Phil hadn’t talked about the event, that it wasn’t too soon for something to prevent them from getting together. It also put him under a bit of stress, were they following the classic ‘will they-won’t they” trope? Dan honestly didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say, so he decided to wait for Phil to charismatically brighten up the conversation, as he so well knows how to do. When nothing came, Phil turned back out the window, and Dan let him, silently cursing himself for trying to initiate a meaningful conversation. He glared at the tear in the back of the seat in front of him, searching for the answers to life in the fabric and stuffing. The clouds broke overhead. Dan wiped away frustrated tears.

In attempt to distract himself from the constant mess of a knot that was his mind, Phil tried to change the topic to something, anything that might have the prospect of diverting his thoughts in any other direction. He spoke up, “so my mum has been getting on my case about what I should do with my life, like I have a fucking clue. She says I’m wasting such potential for not going into law or medicine or other things of that variation. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know, I might want to go into film writing, or acting or something, maybe even drawing, I’m pretty good at that, but I’m most likely going to just stick to the arts, what with not being good at maths and sciences and all.”

“That sounds fun. More fun than like. Neurosurgery or something.”

“If you could wake up tomorrow with a job, what would it be?”

“I mean I guess I’d want to go into graphic design, or directing a movie or something like that.”

“Really? You could go into any of the ‘parent-respected’ jobs with your marks and yet you would chose an unstable art career?”

“You sound just like my mum, honestly,” Phil sighed passively, as if he has had to explain this more frequently than he breathed, “being good at memorising it doesn’t mean I would like to have a career in it, in fact, I would go as far as to say I would hate it. Do you know how depressing it is to stare at those god-awful medical books? God, I would rather die.”

“Do you even read the textbooks for school?”

“No. Why?”

“How the fuck do you memorise all those things?”

“I’m an auditory learner, I just remember it when it’s read to me. That and mnemonics whenever I have to memorise a list or something.”

“Could you teach me, honestly it would spare me so much time”

“If you want me to actually tutor you, I could try.”

“You know a few days ago I would have probably gotten mad and claimed you were a conceded piece of shit-”

“Which I am-”

“Shush I wasn’t finished,” Dan giggled, wildly looking into Phil’s blue eyes - that were totally gross, what was he thinking, “but that would be nice.” Phil looked mildly surprised, but then his face pulled into a warm smile that made Dan’s heart skip a beat.

“Okay,” Phil said slowly, testing the waters. “I think that would be okay.”

An awkward silence fell and Dan was first this time to break it, “so, what is are project on? You’ve yet to fill me in on it.”

Without thought, Phil replied, “I thought we could do residential areas and housing in urban areas versus the ones in suburban, and rural, and in the future of the residential areas due to population increase.” Dan looked estranged. “What?”

“Why would you pick something that’s going to take that much effort‽” Dan worriedly whisper-yelled, “I mean how are we going to accurately predict stuff like that‽”

“It’s not going to take that much effort. I mean, look at it this way: Population increases, housing needs to increase, cities take up less space and more people live and are moving there, therefore higher density housing will most likely become more popular,” Phil shrugged as Dan gaped at him. “You said you were pretty good at art, yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean I’m no Picasso but-” Dan started before his mind turned on and started questioning things, “wait, why, aren’t you the person who just said he wanted to go into graphic design?”

Phil rolled his eyes. “Photoshop is different than a sketchbook, asshole. I can’t draw for shit, so I figure -”

“Where’s the rubric,” Dan asked. Phil handed it over, and Dan glanced over it. “Okay, this isn’t too bad, five pictures and a clear title.”

“See, and I saw that as the worst part, especially considering I couldn’t do computer stuff. Everyone has their strengths.”

Dan handed the rubric back. “Then you have fun with your six full paragraphs, sadist.”

“Only if you’re into that,” Phil said, almost as an afterthought. Dan snorted.

“You have got to talk to Chris less, he is really influencing you.’

Phil’s easy smile melted away into a vaguely uncomfortable expression.

“Right,” Dan sighed. “I forgot we aren’t all exactly on speaking terms at the moment.”

Phil shrugged, but he didn’t meet Dan’s eyes.

The rest of the day was uneventful; Dan had sat on his bed and sketched out an outline of the poster, while Phil outlined the essay on Dan’s phone. Well, he started on the archaic desktop of the hotel’s tiny office, but eventually moved to his phone. The data expenses were more than worth having a typing speed of above one word per eon.

Phil peeked up over the screen of the phone and, seeing Dan fully immersed in his sketching, clicked to the ‘messages’ app.

_Hey chirs_ he said. _It’s phil_

He immediately clicked back to google docs, his heart racing as he flicked his eyes back up. Dan had shifted his sketchbook ninety degrees on his lap, but he didn’t show any interest in Phil. His tongue peeked out from between his teeth, his brows furrowing in concentration. He muttered something to himself, picking up the eraser from the sheets beside him.

Dan’s phone buzzed in Phil’s hands minutes later, and Phil cringed. It was Chris.

“Anything interesting?” Dan asked, not even lifting his eyes from his page. Phil shook his head.

“Younow notification,” he said by way of explanation.

“Oh, so I should be prepared to hear another twenty buzzes in the next two minutes.”

“Can I silence it then?” Phil asked, glad he got away with it.

“Do whatever you want,” Dan said, hunching his shoulders in what was probably a terribly uncomfortable manner, his pencil making quick, light strokes over the page.

Phil chuckled a bit and raised his eyebrow, and Dan scoffed, “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it, you dickwad.”

“No more furry porn, got it,” Phil said with a totally flat voice. Dan scoffed, then paled slightly when he met Phil’s totally serious face.

“You wouldn’t,” he said, but his eyes narrowed suspiciously anyways. Phil just stared back at him, but as soon Dan started moving closer to Phil, the corners of his lips twitched up, betraying him. Dan sat down next to Phil.

“No, I didn’t, but next time…” Phil said, trailing off with a waggle of his eyebrows. “No promises.”

“Was that supposed to be ominous?” Dan asked, referring to Phil’s eyebrows. “Because it really just looks like you’re trying way too hard.”

“Well, your mum.”

“Ooh, what a great retort.”

Phil quickly pulled up a picture of an atlas on Dan’s phone and turned it around so Dan could see it, “show me where I asked.”

“Pfft, shut up,” Dan giggled

“Make me,” Phil said, his face falling serious. Dan’s eyes widened at the words, slightly moving in, his eyes moving from Phil’s eye to his lips, slowly moving in until Phil started laughing. “Alright, time to work,” Phil sighed, not noticing a flushed Dan.

Dan awkwardly shuffled away from Phil and back to his plan for the poster, tripping in the process, nervously laughing as he did so. “Yeah, l, uh, I shou- we should, uh, get back to, uh, working.”

Phil turned back to Dan’s phone, turning to check the text from Chris.

_,,, hi phil,,, gotta say youre terrible at pranks_

_Never claimed to be good at anything_

_Also i have a question, whats with you_

_Oh nothing much you?_

_No i dont mean ‘whats up’ i mean what is with you today_

_Nothings up with me_

_Yeah? Whered your personality go then?_

_You need to talk to dan_

_I mean we should talk too_

_About. The kissing, and whatever, i guess_

_Okay gotta get back to work tho we’ll talk after lunch see ya_

_See ya_

Phil quickly deleted all the messages and returned to document, looking up at Dan every now and again. Phil finished the basic summary of two of the paragraphs, and told Dan he would be heading down to the cafeteria, thinking he’d be able to talk to Chris alone. However, Dan had simply joined him, claiming that it made more sense for them to just go together.

“So, how do you think I should go about talking to Chris?” Dan implored.

“I don’t know, I guess I could ask you the same question. How should I go about talking to Chris?” Dan blanched, realising what Phil meant. He felt something eat away at him as he thought about Phil with Chris, but it was only because he didn’t want his best friend dating someone as annoying as Phil Lester, obviously.

“Well I guess we’re in the same boat, then.”

Phil sighed heavily. “Yeah. I guess so.”

They passed the elevator ride in tense silence. The doors dinged and slid open.

Dan cast his eyes around the room, eventually finding Chris curled in on himself on a couch in the corner. Dan tried not to worry, but Chris was one of the most extroverted people Dan knew, and if he didn’t want to talk to anyone something was definitely up. Dan’s hand found Phil’s and he tugged the boy forward, dropping his hand as soon as he realized what he had been doing.

“I, uh, didn’t mean, uh -”

“Dan, I know, chill.”

“Right.” Dan nodded decisively, leading the way. Chris didn’t even look up, just curled further in on himself. Dan scoffed, dragging Chris up by his wrist.

“What the fuck do you want?” Chris said, but it lacked any of his usual venom. It was cold, flat. ‘Emotionless’ isn’t a word Dan ever thought he would use to describe Chris, but here he was

“You’re coming with me,” Dan said. Planting his feet and puffing out his chest and putting as much authority into his words as he could. Chris just stared through him, but Phil made a small noise of surprise from over Dan’s shoulder.

“We need to talk,” Dan said, and Chris swung his blank gaze to Dan’s face.

“I don’t have anything to say to you,” he said tonelessly, yanking his arm back and pressing his face into the pillow again. Dan’s shoulders deflated a little, and he sighed.

“Well I have something to say to you, and you’re gonna listen.”

Chris didn’t even grace him with a response.

Dan stared down at him.

“Phil, help me carry him.”

Phil’s startled noise was louder this time, and incrementally closer to Dan’s ear.

“Excuse me?”  
  


Chris didn’t move.

“We’re gonna carry him back up to our room. I’ll text Louise when we get there. Get his legs.”

Dan slotted his forearms under Chris’ armpits, tugging him upwards. Chris went boneless, his head lolling back onto Dan’s chest. Phil hadn’t moved.

“Get his legs,” Dan said, trying and failing to keep the smile out of his voice. If Chris wanted to be difficult, then fine. Dan’s the most stubborn motherfucker he knows.

Phil hid his own smile behind a small cough, stepping awkwardly between Chris’ legs and hooking one knee over each of his arms. Their classmates and even a few random people were staring, but Dan didn’t care. It’s not like he had a reputation to protect, at this point. That ship had sailed long ago.

The trio awkwardly shuffled to the elevator. Phil tripped over his own feet, peeking back over his shoulder to avoid running over any more walls. He hit the ‘up’ button, and readjusted his grip as they waited for the elevator.

“You can put me down now,” Chris said, but he wasn’t angry. His eyes were lighter, a hint of a smile gracing his lips.

“How do I know you won’t just run away again?” Dan said suspiciously, leaning over and looking Chris in the eye. Chris huffed out a laugh. It didn’t sound entirely genuine, but at least he was trying.

“You are permitted,” Dan intoned, nodding at Phil to drop his legs. Phil let him down softly, extending a hand to help pull Chris to his balance. Chris stood up and leaned forward, buying his face in Phil’s shoulder. Phil’s arms wrapped around his waist, and he swayed slightly. Dan swallowed against the lump that grew in his throat which felt suspiciously like his heart.

“Thanks,” Chris said, his voice muffled against the fabric of Phil’s shirt. Dan wasn’t sure who Chris was talking to, so he stayed silent.

“For caring enough to force me,” Chris clarified, lifting his head briefly to meet Dan’s eyes. Dan forced himself to keep eye contact, nodding once.

“You’re my best friend,” he said, his voice a little bit shakier than he would have liked. Chris nodded, pressing his face back into Phil’s shirt and inhaling deeply. Phil’s grip was a little tighter, and a little bit stiffer.

“And I went too far yesterday,” Dan hazarded. Chris looked up, thinking, then pushed off of Phil’s chest. He raised his eyebrow, prompting Dan to go on and Dan’s mouth went dry. He had no idea what the fuck to say. “I guess I’m mostly trying to tell you that I’m sorry.”

“Mostly?” Chris said, his smile tired. “What’s the rest, then?”

Dan’s mouth went dry. He wanted to do something stupid and dramatic, like throw down his gauntlet and swing Phil into his arms, riding off into the sunset while dramatic music swelled behind him. Well, except for the fact that Phil was too heavy, and it was three in the afternoon, and he didn’t know where to get a horse. And, you know, he’s straight and hates Phil. But he couldn’t quite squash the surge of possessiveness that erupted in his chest when Chris sidled into Phil’s arms like it was nothing, like Dan’s heart didn’t involuntary twinge in his ribcage. He settled for a wry smile and downturned eyes, spreading his hands in a placating gesture.

“Not important,” he said, bringing his hand up to scratch the back of his neck. He raised his chin, looking anywhere but Chris eyes.

Chris’ smile dropped a few degrees, but he let it go.

“Yeah,” he said. “I guess- I guess we should.”

“Maybe- Maybe I should just, for the beginning, you know, just – um – leave, or something?” Phil offered, his right hand tapping out a nervous tattoo on the wall of the elevator. The doors slid open as Dan met his eyes. Phil’s were wide with what looked to be panic. Dan opened his mouth, but Phil shook his head.

“O-okay,” Dan said, and Phil mouthed ‘thank you’ before dashing – well, speed walking – down the hall. Chris watched him leave, keeping his eyes off of Dan for as long as possible.

“Well,” Chris said with a sigh as Dan opened the door to his and Phil’s room. Dan moved to sit on his own bed, toeing off his shoes and crossing his legs underneath him. Chris moved to sit on Phil’s bed, but thought better of it at the last second and instead sank down in the uncomfortable armchair in the corner of the room, by the window.

“So,” Chris said, and a smile tilted up at that exact angle, the smooth, suave, shit-eating angle Dan hadn’t realized he had missed so fucking much. “I do believe my only job requirement is to listen you grovel for my mercy?”

“Fuck,” Dan said, and his eyes and the back of his nose prickle with unshed tears. “I’m so glad you’re back.” His entire sentence felt like a sigh of relief.

Chris smiled, genuine this time. His voice was thicker than usual when he responded, “I’m not hearing any begging, Howell. Get on your knees and do it right, and then maybe I’ll do you right.”

“Shut up.” A giggle slipped out along with the words, and Chris’ smile lifted up at the edges. Dan rolled his eyes and slid off his bed, ending up on his knees. Chris’ eyes widened and his chest shook with barely-contained laughter.

“I missed you too,” he said, his voice soft and fond. But then he laughed again.

“If this is how you repay me, you should get in trouble more often.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yooooo i hope u liked the sweet ending to this chapter and i hope ill plan my time better for the next one. oh and tell me what you thought of it.


	6. Chapter Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yo! our asses are sorry that this is only the second time we've updated this year. and don't worry bc we both want The Big Death and for only 9 easy payments of 999.99 you can dunk us in the big death for making u wait

The laughter spilling out through the bottom of the door was both comforting and saddening. Phil softly banged his head into the wall, simultaneously feeling glad that he didn’t fuck up their friendship as much as he had every friendship he had ever attempted at having, and feeling of extremely left out.

Phil sighed. He was spiralling, and he knew it, which only made it all the more frustrating that he couldn’t pull himself out of it. Suddenly, entirely unbidden, every single one of his past interpersonal failures flooded into his mind, trying to squeeze out through his eyes. He wiped the tears away furiously.

He wanted to go on and ignore them, or boil over and scream, but he knew it wouldn’t matter. He knew that he always had to initiate conversation if he were ever to talk to anyone and that if people were to talk to him he couldn’t ever ignore them – having the short attention span he had. This is not to say that he couldn’t hold a grudge, but rather, that he couldn’t always remember to show it. He was desperate for affection, no matter how much he hated to admit it, under that calm ‘give-no-shits’ exterior was someone who wanted to be acknowledged, not just be okay at a bunch of stuff.

So he just sat there. On the floor, against the wall, with his head safely buried in his hands as he tried to fight the frustrated tears. He didn’t quite manage to succeed.

He could hear the distinctive peals of Dan’s laughter through the door, and his stomach clenched. He didn’t know what he was feeling, but there sure was a lot of it, spilling through his sit and rising in his throat, almost making him choke on it. Drenching his sleeves in tears as he wiped his eyes to clear his vision so that he could run to a janitorial closet down the hall, slamming the door behind him the second he fully gets into the small room.

He sank down against the door as soon as he has is closed, burying his head in his arms and outright sobbing. His chest heaved and his throat itched and his eyes stung, his breath coming in uneven, hiccuping bursts and racking sobs that made it impossible to stay still.

A small, tentative knock sounded at the door and Phil shot back, holding his breath.

“Hello?” someone called through the door. “Is someone in there? Is everything okay?”

“Y-yeah,” Phil called back, wincing when his voice wavered. Coughing to clear his voice of all evidence that he had been so overcome by tears, he continued, “yep, I am 100% fine, totally and completely…” he trailed off.

“May I come in?”

Phil froze. “Um. If you want to?”

The door cracked open just wide enough for PJ to slither through but for no one to see Phil in case they were walking by, a form of courtesy, closing it behind him with a soft sound.

“You wanna talk about it?” PJ asked, and Phil just stared.

“Ideally? Sure.” Phil chuckled emptily. “Realistically? I don’t want to put my bullshit sob-story on anyone. Feels too much like I’m being a whiny bastard making people feel sorry for me.”

“If it feels better, I can tell you my bullshit sob-story afterwards? I can probably win in a whining competition, I made an entire project based on the putrid state of the abysmal washrooms at our school,” PJ said, attempting to elicit laughter from Phil. “Mutual exchange, and all that,” he stated to bring the conversation back to the topic.

“Fuck it.” Phil shrugged. “The SparkNotes version of events is that I accidentally almost initiated a best-friend breakup between my ‘sworn enemy–’” he added finger quotes and everything– “and this guy I’m kind of sort of dating? Nothing is official, we made out like, once, but he’s apparently had a crush on me for a while, so I thought why the hell not.

“And now they’re making up and shit and I’m not even part of the friend group and I came in and I just fucked everything up like I do everything, and now, I’m being left out again and it always happens, every single time, and I hate it but who can blame them when even I hate myself.” Phil was crying fat tears of frustration by the end of his little tirade, and he angrily scrubbed eyes with his palms. 

“I’m sure that’s not the case,” PJ offered gently.

Phil scoffed and rolled his eyes. “That’s because the only interaction you’ve had with me is this one, to which I’m emotionally vulnerable and manipulating your empathy, albeit it’s not on purpose.”

“Not true, you talk a shit tonne in class.”

“So you know the intellectual front I put up, not much better.”

“Now I just get the feeling that you like suffering alone.”

“Not necessarily, but I do feel guilty sharing it with others, plus, you can’t say that someone who knows the answer to most of the questions asked without studying isn’t annoying. I mean, I do hear how I sound, I just can’t stop it. Well, I mean I can, but it kills me not to. That and I’m such an indecisive piece of shit like even in the last sentence I said I couldn’t not backtrack. 

PJ looked at Phil inquisitively, as if trying to decipher a code or solve a puzzle, and to break the silence, Phil gulped then said, “Alright, now for your shit.”    

“Not so fast buckaroo.”

“Who the fuck says ‘buckaroo’?”

“This buckaroo.”

Phil laughed until he was crying for an entirely different reason. 

PJ waited until Phil calmed down enough to speak. “As for your problem, it might feel selfish, but your feelings are valid, and you should be okay with feeling them, as long as you don’t try hurting people because of them.”

Phil bit back his tongue, trying to forget about the fact that he when he loses his temper he can’t stop the vicious verbal attacks from spiralling and harming everything they come in contact with, but the expression didn’t leave his face fast enough for PJ to miss it.

“What is it?” PJ questioned tentatively.

“Can I tell you some other time? I kind of don’t want to cry twice in one day.”

“Okay, but other than that, do you feeling any better?”

Phil bobbed his head in an awkward nod. “Well, considering I came in here unable to stop myself from sobbing, I would say that I am, yeah.”

PJ hummed. “That’s good. I’m glad.”

“Now it’s your turn,” Phil said, gesturing expansively. “So. What’s up?”

“Well.” PJ settled back against the door, his legs splayed out in front of him. “My parents are going through a divorce, my brother was just arrested in Italy, and the guy I’ve been crushing on for years just sort of got together with a guy I found crying in a closet.”

“Oh,” and for the first time in Phil’s life, he was truly speechless. 

“I mean don’t get me wrong, the fact that your life isn’t all sunshine and rainbows is a bit, well, I don’t know if there’s an English word for it but in German, it’s called ‘schadenfreude.’”

“Happiness at the misfortune of others, huh?”

“Human nature, or some shit.” PJ shrugged. “But you’re not really into psych. How do you know that?”

“Avenue Q,” Phil responded, only earning a questioning look from PJ. “A musical which I’ve sort of wanted to see but they don’t really perform it anymore, schadenfreude is one of the songs, and quite a good one, if I may add.

“And to be fair, I probably would feel at least a bit happy to see me crying if I was in your situation.” Phil giggled. “So, no hard feelings between us?” Phil asked, failing to hide his worry with the laugh.

It was then that PJ realised just how uncertain Phil was in his relationships, constantly questioning and second guessing every action and reaction he and others had. So he smiled, and truthfully said, “No hard feelings.”

“Hey, if you want, I have the songs from Avenue Q saved to my phone, if you want to listen to them.” Doubt and uncertainty flooded his voice as he made the proposition, so much so that PJ couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

The two stayed in the closet for a while listening to music and talking about what they had just listened to.

“Phil?” Chris called, knocking on the door. Phil jumped.

“I heard your voice through the door, you good?” Chris hollered. Phil mumbled something in affirmative. 

“Come on out of the closet, Phil, we’ll still accept you!” Phil groaned, putting his head in his hands. 

“What do you even see in him?” he asked PJ. PJ grinned and shrugged.

“His lack of social tact is endearing?” he offered. Phil just rolled his eyes.

“Keep your panties on, I’m com–” Phil started to say, only to be interrupted by Chris crashing through the door.

“It’s okay if I was just your beard, Phil, I understand that sometimes you have to just–?” Chris’ smile immediately turned panicked and he almost fell flat onto his face. 

“How the fuck would dating a dude make Phil seem straight?” Dan asked from outside the door. “I mean I know you’re not the most masculine guy ever, Chris, but you don’t look like a chick, exactly– oh.” He blinked. “Uh. Hi, PJ.” He threw an elbow into Chris’ side. Chris just squeaked and blushed like mad.

“Hi, Dan. Uh, Chris.” PJ smiled, entirely casual.

Chris’ mouth felt dry, but he forced a smile.

“Hi PJ,”  Chris awkwardly stuttered again.

“Hey.” PJ said, warmth saturating his voice and the corners of his lips turning upwards. But then he remembered the situation and he coughed as though he was waking up out of a trance. Chris tried to squash the burning warmth spreading through his chest, but he could feel it tickling at his cheeks. He coughed and turned away, running his hand through his hair as an excuse to briefly hide his face.

To break the silence and lighten the mood, Dan thought he would play Chris’ Game. “Would you guys stop eye-fucking while Phil and I are here?” However, it wasn’t the mood-lifter he was expecting it to be, rather, the room fell even more silent than it had been before, devoid even the awkward coughs and foot-shuffles.

“Fuck you,” Chris muttered, a surprising amount of venom in his voice when he threw an elbow into Dan’s side.

Confusion riddled Dan’s face. Chris was usually the first to laugh at any joke - even ones about him regardless of whether or not it was a topic he was self-conscious about. Dan held up his hands in surrender. “Dude, I’m sorry, Jesus. Cool. Calm. Be calm. Calm like the – what’s a calm thing, Phil? Help me out, all I can think of is the soup meme.”

“Nice breeze?” Phil offered, looking for all the world like a deer caught in the headlights of a semi truck.

Chris snorted, but his lips twitched up into a smile.

“Shitting-your-pants-scared really isn’t a good look on you, Phil,” Chris said, and Dan let out an audible sigh of relief.

“Pissed off doesn’t become you, either, Chris,” Phil rebutted, and Dan’s eyebrows flew up.

Chris froze, a scathing retort dying out on the tip of his tongue. Had Dan really affected him that much? A stupid joke, one that was barely anything compared to his relentless teasing of Dan about Phil? His heart clenched, and Chris could feel hot tears of frustration pricking at his eyelids. He forced them down, clearing his throat and shaking his hair into his eyes.

“Sorry dude,” he mumbled. Dan could hear the tears hiding behind his voice, but he didn’t say anything. No one else seemed to notice, and Dan had a feeling that Chris wanted to keep it that way.

Possessiveness bubbled in Dan’s chest for his friend. He couldn’t let him go around hurting like this, no, Dan needed to do something. “Phil, do you not know how to register a situation? Do you even try? Or is everything a joke to you? Are you just going to spend your entire life being a sarcastic fuckwit even when it’s not called for? Your marks aren’t going to get you fucking anywhere if you can’t take anything seriously.” Disgust coloured Dan’s expression.

“Dan, lay off him, it was an equal response to what I said to him.” Chris’ tone is final. A warning.

Dan presses on. “Are you fucking serious? Don’t let him treat you like dog shit, Chris, honestly, what the fuck do you even see in him.”

Chris motions PJ to his feet, gripping his wrist. He tries to ignore the niggling, screaming thought that he’s touching PJ for the first time, and drags him out of the closet, slamming the door shut behind him

“You’re not coming out ‘till calm the hell down.”

“You went from being pissed to ensure to a therapist in three seconds flat,” PJ mused, and Chris snorted.

He didn’t justify that with a verbal response, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before sinking down to sit with his back against the door. He could hear Dan shouting and banging from behind it, but he ignored him.

“You open this fucking door, you cock waffle, I was fighting on your side!”

“And I asked you to stop. And you didn’t,” Chris hollered back matter-of-factly. 

“Let’s just get this shit over with,” Chris heard Phil mutter.

“Phil has the spirit!” Chris shot back sarcastically.

Chris looked up at PJ, who was watching him with an expression of perverse amusement. He began apologetically; “You don’t have to stay for our marital spats, honestly. Go find your friends or whatever, we’re gonna be here for a while.”

He almost had a heart attack when PJ just shrugged nonchalantly, folding himself gracefully down to sit cross-legged on the floor next to Chris.

“Nah,” he said, a lopsided grin pulling at his features. “This is plenty fun.”

Chris’ smile was shaky and unsure as he turned to listen in on the chaos in the closet.

“Have to admit, never thought I’ be back in the closet,” Phil chuckled, earning a miffed look from Dan. “What I said nothing about your sexuality, calm yourself.” 

“I’m not upset because of that I think you should be aiding my attempt to get us the fuck out of here” Dan exasperatedly dragged out the word out.

“You heard Chris, he’s not letting us out until we get along, calm down, and we just might get out of here alive.”

Gritting his teeth, Dan seceded, leaning against the wall as he slumped down to sit.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Chris’ sarcastic jabs could be heard through the thick metal door of the janitorial closet.

“Can we get out now?” Dan spat through his teeth.

“I’ve yet to hear you two getting along, merely a realisation that you have to to get out.” 

“What’s it going to take?”

“A kiss.”

“Nope! You know what you can do? You can fuck right the fuck off because that shit ain’t happening!”

“Kiss and fucking make up,” Chris bit. Footsteps receded down the hall and panic rose in Dan’s throat. He banged on the door with flat palms. Nothing.

“Chris!” Still nothing.

Defeated, Dan slumped down against the door and scrubbed his hands over his face. Phil sat against the other wall, his knees pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped around himself. He rested his chin on his knees and let his eyes slide shut.

“Just wait him out,” he said, and Dan looked up. “He’ll let us out eventually.”

“Right, because you’re the one with verging on eight years of friendship with him. You’re the one who knows him better.”

“The sooner you get your stick out of your ass and replace it with a cock the sooner we can get out of here,” Phil mumbled, and all of his fight exited him on an exhale. He slumped down, his shoulders almost touching his ears. Dan brutally suppressed the sliver of baseless pity that twinged in his chest.

“The sooner you take your dickish personality and… and…”

Phil looked up, his empty eyes dull without their usual humour.

“I don’t know.” Dan threw up his hands. “Something something scathing retort.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The two lapsed into silence. Phil lay his face on his knees. Dan’s eyes slid shut.

Fuck. How had his day ended up like this? What deity had he offended in a past life to deserve all of this? Dan groaned silently, cradling his face in his hands. 

“How in the hell do we get out here?” Dan asked, looking up. Phil shrugged.

“Have you tried the door?”

“Idiot, of course I’ve tried the fucking door,” Dan spat, even as he reached for the knob and jiggled it. It didn’t budge. “See?”

Phil just shrugged again, shuffling until he was lying on the floor with his arm curled under his head. A shelf pressed into his lower back and his knees were shoved into his chest by the lack of space, but he still looked the most relaxed he had in a long time. Or maybe he was just fed up with it all. Dan could relate. His eyelids pulled shut but he forced them open, trailing them around the room. Shelves. Boxes. Tons and tons of useless shit shoved in every corner. Broken shower curtains spilling out of a box against the far wall. Bottles upon bottles of cleaning solution. Boxes of individually wrapped soaps and toilet paper. Palettes of tissue boxes.

“We could just kill ourselves,” Dan joked, pointing to the bottles of Clorox® and Windex®. 

“Don’t tempt me,” Phil murmured, turning so his back was to Dan. Dan tried to laugh, but the sound got stuck in his throat. 

An hour. Two hours. Ten minutes. Thirty seconds. Dan had no idea how much time had passed, but it had been too long. He jumped to his feet, beginning to agitatedly pace around the small room. He tripped over boxes and kicked bottles out of the way. Phil just curled in tighter on himself with each noise Dan made.

“Can you just calm the fuck down?” He asked, his voice cracking on what Dan could have sworn was a pleading edge.

“How am I supposed to calm the fuck down when I’m trapped in a goddamn closet with you for god-knows how much longer?” Dan countered, his voice rising until it verged on hysterical.

“It wasn’t my fucking idea!” Phil spat.

“It wasn’t mine either!”

They fell into a tense silence, only broken by the rhythmic slap of Dan’s shoes against the concrete floor.

“Why is Chris so hell-bent on getting us to kiss?” Dan asked, to no one in particular. Phil didn’t provide an answer, and Dan didn’t expect him to.

“‘Sides, aren’t you two together?” he continued, toeing Phil’s ribs. Phil didn’t say anything, just curled himself impossibly tighter. 

“Aren’t you?” Dan’s voice and foot became more insistent, and Phil shot up.

“Yes,” he hissed. “At least, last I checked. Now take your blue fucking balls as far the fuck away from me as the fucking room permits or so help me…” He didn’t finish his threat but he didn’t need to. Dan huffed and spun on his heel, continuing his pacing.

“Are you..” Dan paused, looking over his shoulder with curious eyes. “Are you claustrophobic? Is that why you’re so pissy right now?”

“Ding ding fucking ding,” Phil muttered dryly. “Get this man a fucking medal.”

“Oh, shit, really?”

“Not diagnosable but definitely enough to warrant a lot of discomfort.”

“Oh.” Dan fidgeted in place. “Um?”

“So helpful.”  
  


“Well, what the fuck would you rather I do? I can’t exactly get us out of here either!”

“Just– just shut up. Your pacing is making me anxious.”

A knock came on the door, interrupting the veil of silence that fell on the two, when Chris’ voice pierced from the outside of the janitorial closet,  “have you two kissed and made up or do I have to leave for another forty minutes.” 

“Uh- yeah, yeah we have.” Dan tried 

“Don’t lie to me Danny-boy,” Chris sing-songed. “I’ve known you for eight, man, I know when you’re lying.”

“Honestly, Dan, you’ve never even been good at lying.” Another voice, Louise’s, spoke up.

“Aren’t you two together?” 

“Yeah, I guess, but, I need you to to stop acting like utter cockwaffles around each other.”

“I don’t… how in the fuck does that… Chris what the shit!” Dan roared, slamming his fist into the door. His knuckles throbbed.

“I don’t make the rules.”  
  


“But you do!”

“Okay, I’ll admit, I am every branch of the government, and maybe that’s not the best for the citizens-”

“You’re telling me-”

“But, regardless, ‘tis the case.”

“You know what? Fine. Fucking fine.”

With nothing but aggression, Dan turned to look at Phil, who was wide-eyed at this whole affair. He quickly got to the other end of the closet – to where Phil was – and grabbed him by the collar just as Louise’s chiding voice drifted through the open door.

“Chris, come on, that’s not very nice.”

“I wasn’t actually going to make them, come on. It’s been fifteen minutes. I was tired of them constantly being assholes and giving me a headache regardless of what happened. I know it was a bit extreme but you get it? Right? I mean it might’ve been a bit much, bu–” He stopped dead in his tracks. Phil gasped when Dan dropped him, sending him nearly a foot till he hit the floor. Without a single word, Dan turned and stalked out of the door, his lips and eyes wet and shining in the bright light of the hallway.

“What in–” Chris swore under his breath. Phil sniffed softly and curled back up with his arm under his head and his face pressed to the wall. 

Dan paused at the doorframe, turning his body part way back to look at Chris, who immediately had a surround-sound flashback to every single k-drama he had ever seen.

“He’s claustrophobic, you asshat,” Dan spat, before turning on his heels to walk away. The only sound left was the sound of his fading  footsteps as he walked down the vacant hallway. That and Phil’s breath returning from  the previously anxious state it had been in.

“I’m sorry,” Chris eked out. “I- I didn’t know…”

“No,” Phil whispered. “No. You didn’t know.”

Chris opened his mouth to voice some half-formed jab at his life suddenly becoming a bad sitcom, but wisely shut his mouth again.

“I’m going after him,” Louise muttered, jerking her head in the direction Dan stormed off. Chris nodded helplessly, bringing his thumb up to his mouth and gnawing at the nail.

PJ patted the spot next to him. Chris just stared at him. He didn’t even notice Phil wander off in the same direction Dan and Louise had gone.

“Come on in, the water’s fine?” PJ offered, uncertainty making his statement lilt into a question.

Chris snorted. “The Little Mermaid, really?”

“Shalalalalala my oh my, look at this boy too shy–” PJ belted, too loud and unfairly on-key for how memey he was being. Chris hid a smile behind an eyeroll and folded himself into a cross-legged position. 

“Ain’t gonna– kiss the girl,” PJ continued, leaning over until he was practically draped over Chris’ lap, his eyes shining and smile bright. “wow, I know that the song was sung by Sebastian but you’re doing better cosplay as him right now.”

“Shut up,” Chris groaned, railing against every internal instinct he had and shoving PJ off his lap. PJ’s laugh sounded like a choking hyena, Chris noticed. He immediately fell in love with it.

“Man, staring at me like that isn’t going to stop me from poking fun at you. You know that, right?”

“Staring at you like what?” Chris challenged.

“Like you’d pay £500 and punch a baby to suck my dick.”

“Pffft. As if I’d spend money on you.”

“But the baby you’re okay with.”

“Hey. We have enough people as it is. I say if a few defenceless heads get knocked why should I care.”

“I feel like I should be concerned but honestly I’m just honoured.”

Chris giggled. “It is the highest honour. A nobel peace prize whomn’t’st’ve?”

They could hear Louise running for the elevator door before it closed with Dan in it.

Dan was so close. He had gotten in the elevator and the door was closing. A breath of relief was this close from being released when a foot jammed itself between the retracting elevator doors. He looked up to see Louise tentatively assessing the situation and the state he was in. He didn’t enjoy it. He didn’t want to be treated like someone who needed extra care. Like someone who needed to be danced around lightly as though to protect the fragile circus act that was his life. As if their role was to walk on eggshells as he did mental backflips to avoid all of his problems. Not that he had problems. It got to the point where he coughed in his mind awkwardly to correct himself.

“Get the fuck out of here with your baby gloves,” he spat. Louise just kind of blinked at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Baby gloves. The gloves you use to handle babies. Soft, fragile things. Fuck off with them.”

Louise put her hands on her hips. Dan swallowed nervously.

“Fine,” she said. “I won’t dance around anything. You’re being a huge fucking wuss, driving all your friends away for no reason other than you take some weird sadistic pleasure in your own brooding. You’re ignoring the feelings of the people closest to you, pushing them all away just so you can go sulk about it a feel superior and I’m sick and fucking tired of it. I mean for fuck’s sake, Dan, you want to act like a fucking toddler and yet you have the fucking audacity to ask me not to treat you like a baby? I don’t even know what you want from me. I take our side and try to comfort you you’re mad, I oppose you when you’re being a dick and so deserve it you’re mad. I get it. You have emotional turmoil. But we’re your fucking friends. You talk to us about that shit. You don’t take it out on us, you Lego-Batman movie fuckshit.”

Dan’s jaw had dropped sometime around her opening statement. It’s not so much that he had never seen Louise that pissed, but rather, that she had never been that pissed at him. Or Chris. Or anyone she knew as a friend. And if she did she never had an outburst. Something about her having a healthy family which openly talked about their issues and prioritized problem solving might have affected her positively or something. Fuck that.

The elevator doors dinged closed. Dan shoved the button to open them again.

“Fine,” he muttered, his voice thick and his knuckles still aching from the night before. “We’ll fucking talk. In the room.”

“With Phil,” Louise said.

“N-n-n-n-n-n-nope! Another strike wrong for Louise! Good try, though, that shit ain’t happening!” He snapped finger guns.

“Daniel James Howell,” Louise growled. “I am three seconds away from slapping you across the face-”

“I’ll talk with you, but I hardly know Phil. I don’t have anything to him anyway.”

There was a moment of silence before Dan realized what he had said and what it had sounded like. “N-not like that. I meant like I’m not sharing my feelings to him. For him. You know?”

Louise’s expression softened as she looked back at Dan. “Fine,” she conceded. “Shove over.”

Dan shoved to the side and leaned against the mirrored wall of the elevator, jamming his knee into the button for their floor.

“Fine,” he muttered, fixing his hair. “We’ll talk.”

“Firstly, I’m not gay,” Dan said, leaning back against the door and folding his arms. Louise just hummed from her spot perched on the edge of his bed.

“Okay. I have never said you were,” she paused for a second, stalling to find a way to frame her question as to delicately handle the topic. “Can I ask you a question?”

Hesitantly, Dan answered, “Okay.” Making the word sound more like a question itself than an answer.

“Would it be an issue if you were? Gay, that is.”

“I don’t know why the question is relevant when I’m not.”

“Humour me.”

“There’s is nothing wrong with gay people,” Dan muttered, scuffing his heel on the carpet. “I’m just not one of them.”

“That’s not what I asked. And you know it, Dan.” Louise sounded a bit done with Dan’s antics.

“What do you want?” Dan asked, pacing the length of the room, turning on his heel, and pacing back. 

Louise raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know,” Dan muttered. He paced faster. “I don’t know!” He sank to the floor, his face in his hands. 

Louise came over to Dan, her steps jolting and uneven. She put her arm around his shoulder slowly and carefully, waiting for him to flinch or pull away. He didn’t. She continued.

“You want to elaborate?”

“How?”  
  


“What makes you unsure?”

“Do you ever get that jolting feeling in the pit of your stomach when something is about to change everything you thought you knew about yourself and the world?” Louise nodded, but she wasn’t sure if Dan could see her through his fingers or not. “Yeah, that.”

“Well, regardless of whether or not you’re gay, your direct friends wouldn’t change because of it. We would love you the same. It’s like if you wore a hat every day we knew you and took it off to reveal you have brown hair, it was still you, nothing has changed, we just know more.”

“I know,” Dan said. “I know.” 

“Good. But other than that,” she said, and Dan was pretty sure his sigh of relief could have rivaled anything Aeolus had on hand. “What the fuck is up?”

“I dunno. I’m a bit stressed from school. I mean my mum yelled at me even though I still have a B- average because apparently I ‘ruined’ my grades. Can’t get into a university like that, you know.” He chuckled emptily. “It’s fine though, minimum wage doesn’t seem that bad, right. Oh god, I can’t even joke about that it sounds so bad.”

“If all else fails, prostitution is a viable career option.”

“Man, I wish, but my mum would yell at me and then kill me and then haul me back from the spirit realm from my hair to yell at me some more. She has this creepy sixth sense where she can always tell what I’m doing. Well, not always, but she’s scarily accurate.”

“You do know it’s not her life, right?” Louise said softly. “Her opinion doesn’t mean jack shit where you should be concerned.”

“Yeah, it’s my life. That I’ll be watching pass me by from the comfort of a cardboard box, lmao.” He didn’t pronounce all of the individual letters, just said it like a regular word.

“It’s some fuckshit,” Louise agreed. “But fuck, dude, if you aren’t gonna try for shit, might as well cock it all. Paired up with Phil y’are for a reason, utilize that shit n get fuckin good, bro. Shit’s not gonna uncock itself just cause u shove your head up your bum, it sucks taint but you gotta put some effort in too. But you ain’t alone or nothing. You got Resources mcfuckin use them bitch.”

“When did you go from reserved and comforting to all out tired talks at 3 am city talk?”

“You know what, I didn’t come here for this. I’m here comforting this bitch and he deadass calls me out this is an attack on my character.”

“I never said there was something wrong. It was just unexpected, s’all.”

“Good, because the fuckin coddling wasn’t doing jack so I decided a good old fashioned talking to would help you set fuckin stright.”

“It’s endearing. And vaguely threatening.”

“Good.” Louise hauled herself up. “Another 20 seconds of brutal honesty? Talk to Phil. I don’t care what about. Don’t fuck it up just because you’re worried about what it might be. Enjoy it for what it is, whatever that may be.?

“Wow, edge-lord Louise, 20 seconds of brutal honesty,” Dan jokingly mocked.

“In the words of The Aristocats, ‘Ladies don’t start fights, but they sure can finish them.“ She didn’t bother extending a hand to help Dan up, dusting off her skirt and straightening her sweater.

“Nope, she’s back. Welcome back, Louise.”

“So, it seems, are you, Dan. Welcome back. I’ve missed you.” She hugged him as he stood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope that ending to this chapter makes it somewaht (wah) okay for not updating in 6 months rip yall soz but yeah tell me what you think about what has happened what is going to happe etc see yall next time which i hope will be before december lmao

**Author's Note:**

> Yo, sorry it took so long time is a bitch, BUT I got it out so be proud. I hope you liked it, tell me what you think.


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